Pudding
by Paradoxal Reality
Summary: Not your average Zim is older/taller fic, that's for sure. Dare you read the conclusion?
1. Zim

A/Note: I know I should be working on Ultimate Weapon, but I've run into a large brick wall that someone has thoughtfully labeled 'Writer's Block'. I have a large bruise to prove it, too! So I'd like to pass the meantime by presenting the Zim story I began almost fully a YEAR ago. And finished about… two months ago. That is sad, isn't it? Lol, I'd like to point out that when I began this story, the whole "older and taller" thing hadn't quite become such an established genre. So in the interest of keeping it something resembling interesting, I'm reworking it slightly to poke a little bit of fun at the original idea. Expect no continuity between this story and Ultimate Weapon, though. Ah, and as for the disclaimer…  
  
I don't own Zim! But you knew that. Ideas and such expressed herein are generally based off of the projections and predictions of my best friend, who got me hooked on this show within the space of one episode. And whether she knew it or not at the time she beta-read the original story, this one's for her. (How'd you think I got away with "stealing" her ideas?) Any other concepts are probably my own, and nothing has intentionally been borrowed (or, to the best of my knowledge, unintentionally so) or stolen outright from anyone else's story. Tada, there you have it, and I now present for your general discomfort the Special Definitive Edition of…  
  
"Pudding"  
  
Chapter One: Zim  
  
Zim sighed. It had been ten long years. Ten years of tedium and disappointment laced with the occasional panic and fear of discovery. That had mostly come courtesy of Dib and his usual fanatical devotion to revealing the truth about the Irken Invader who was *still* in his class, *still* intent upon taking over the world, and who was *still* not seen as anything but a slightly geekier than usual guy with an odd skin condition. Zim could still recall when Dib had chased him home from the first day of High School, screaming like a character from one of those stupid Earth movies that GIR loved so much, declaring "Just wait and see, Zim! I'll get you! And your little dog, too!" If he hadn't been about to die of exhaustion, he'd have started laughing. As it was, just recalling the expression on Dib's face when GIR had then floated up to the human on his booster rockets, cheerfully saying "Hellooooooooo!" gave Zim fits of snickers.  
  
The High School had greatly puzzled the Irken. After he'd checked and re- checked its elevation, he could determine no great difference between its elevation and that of the "lower grade skool" that he'd previously attended. Later he formed a new hypothesis about the name, based upon observations of some of the students' behavioral patterns. Someone was "high" at that place at any given moment, regardless of the height of the buildings foundation.  
  
He'd also learned to appreciate some of the larger, hulking athletic students, who managed to stuff Dib into his own locker nearly every day. They'd made as if to bother him at first too, until he'd thought fast and told them that his condition could be contagious. But for the most part, making Dib's life a living hell seemed to satisfy their need for violence.  
  
Zim's classes tended to rotate around such incredibly useful subjects (to an alien bent on learning all that was learn able about the planet) Geography, Government, and History. It rather disgusted him on one level that he knew more about the History of this "United States" than most of its citizens apparently did. Some of it, however, appealed to him greatly. World wars, colonization... it was so almost Irken that for the first time even since he'd been banished from Irk after his... exemplary enthusiasm for Operation Impending Doom 1, he'd felt earnestly homesick.  
  
Another class that he'd found incredibly useful was the course in Chemistry. Ironically, none other than his self-appointed persecutor's father, Professor Membrane, taught the course. After his television show had fallen through, he'd taken up teaching in person. He was an odd sort. Even odder than his neurotic son, and that was definitely saying something. He was a strangely entertaining teacher, so much so that Zim often forgot to be as close on his guard around Dib as he should have been. They'd been assigned as lab partners once, and the human had taken every opportunity to try and expose him. Fortunately, the professor usually managed to keep the boy in check, once even publicly chewing him out for throwing a beaker of water on Zim. Most of the class had assumed it had been some sort of mild acid given the way their classmate had collapsed, shrieking in agony to the floor.  
  
Dib had gotten a long lecture on chemically-enhanced practical jokes and two weeks of detention. Zim had gotten second-degree burns and a week off from school to recover.  
  
With a thoughtful grunt, the Irken leaned back in his chair, recalling that day. It should have been readily apparent to the professor that it had been harmless (for humans) water that had provoked Zim's outburst of screaming and painful writhing. Yet the older man had apparently not noticed. He'd only grabbed a nearby cloth and quickly begun trying to simultaneously dry Zim off and calm down his frightened students. After chauffeuring the alien into his small office, the distracted Professor Membrane had returned to the classroom and given a long and loud lecture on endangering other students. Zim could remember feebly laughing at the irony. Dib could very well be some sort of savior defending his planet against the terrible might of the Irken forces, and he was being punished for "reckless and vicious" behavior.  
  
Zim brushed his nervously twitchy antennae with a shaking hand, encouraging his mind to leave off with this pointless wondering about the past. How had he become so sidetracked? Ah yes, chemistry. That was what he had been thinking about. He reached out for the disgustingly unwieldy paper textbook and pulled it across the small desk to get a better view of the "Periodic Table", as the humans apparently called it. It was a struggle not to snicker at the pathetically small number of elements that the humans apparently recognized. What a laugh. And of course the names were all different from the familiar Irken ones that he remembered. His jagged, scrawling handwriting decorated most of the page. Notations about Irken names for elements, chemicals found here on Earth that he wasn't familiar with, and interactions that he'd thought important enough to scribble down a line or two about filled the small element boxes to overflowing with information.  
  
A ring of small black stars encircled the box labeled 'Sodium', decorating the earthly name of the element that was the basic building block of all Irken life as fully as a human might have thought appropriate to bestow on the box called 'Carbon' that the alien had scribbled over repeatedly until it the text was almost completely obscured.  
  
After staring at a few choice boxes in bewilderment, Zim stood up and began pacing. He'd first noticed the change after the first year he'd been on Earth. It was shocking that he hadn't realized it before, actually. He'd always been rather sensitive about his height, so why hadn't *he* been the first to notice that he'd been growing? Why indeed? And why so suddenly? After remaining at the same height for nearly a century, he'd grown. In fact, it seemed almost cliché in a way… his being on Earth causing him to mutate beyond what his genetic structure had been perceived as being capable of.  
  
One evening in a caffeine-induced fit of desperate inspired insanity, he'd tried to plot out the probability of the occurrence that he found himself imagining thousands of alternate versions of himself undergoing in grape Fun Dip. He recalled waking hazily to a room full of liquid gelatin and a fleeting impression of dancing potted petunias the next morning. But GIR had licked up all the flavored purple powder and so the knowledge had been lost. Probably forever.  
  
Zim cast his red-eyed glare back over his shoulder at the accusatory textbook. Certain elements... they seemed to be affecting him strangely. They must be more abundant here than on Irk, he'd first reasoned. But... according to his correlations of Earth elements to the Irken ones he remembered, that didn't make sense. Asimovvul wasn't especially rare on Irk. Neither was Douglassium. A memory suddenly nagged at Zim's train of thought. Ingredients... those were both found in… something. Zim closed his eyes and concentrated on the thought, willing it to resolve itself. He remembered a large and glorious restricted dining hall... spices... exotic chemicals and special preparations... Zim's eyes suddenly flew open and he visibly startled as the rest of the memory cleared. The Tallest. That was what he had been trying to remember. The Tallest! Their food was always specially prepared and chemically enhanced… and... If the reactions he'd observed meant what he was beginning to suspect…  
  
Zim snarled suddenly, and brought his fist crashing down on the desk. It was all a scam. Supposedly, whoever the tallest Irken happened to be of the generation that came of age when the old Tallest died was to become the new leader. Allegedly it was up to genetic superiority and the whims of chance to determine the height of each Irken. But if he was right... then that meant that there was a definite reason why Irk had *two* Tallest, of *precisely* the same height. They were very intentionally given chemicals to increase their height artificially!  
  
All of his life he'd been teased and ridiculed for his short stature, and much ado was made over how his "cousins", his "littermates" were among the tallest and most highly regarded Irkens on the planet. Not that the relation meant much. They shared a bit of common DNA and that was it. There was no such thing as family on Irk. There was the Empire, and that was supposed to be enough for any individual's needs. Even one who was connected by a lone pair of chromosomes to one of the Allmighty Tallest. The one time that Zim had been able to use his distant relationship to the Tallest was during the Great Assigning for Operation Impending Doom 1.  
  
He'd begged and pleaded for a chance to rain some doom, and finally they'd relented, giving him command over a large Destroyer automaton. In his glee at seeing the damage the thing could cause, he'd thoroughly destroyed a full half of the entire planet in a massive sweep of lasers, energy bursts, and fire. Then of course, he'd been banished. He remembered staring at his feet as Red had intoned "I think that we made a mistake here, Zim." And then Purple adding "I suppose that this is why the *short* of Irk are relegated to Invader status. What in Irk's name were you thinking!?" Red had glared at the damage reports that were still being brought in and grumbled, "Whatever's left of Irk, that is. From now on, we hold these things off planet."  
  
Slowly Zim paced the floor of his small room, fuming over the humiliation he'd endured, first in being shot off to Foodcourtia and then when he'd returned, desperate to prove himself and make amends… the horror of this planet. He'd gained a lot during his exile to Planet Earth. He'd gained invaluable experience in infiltration, escaping attempted assaults, and thinking on the run. He'd become quite resourceful, he realized. Recalling what had started all this train of thought, he glanced at the kitchen entryway, where ever since that fateful day in the grade skool when he'd recognized the change, he'd recorded the increase in his stature every year. He was only about average height for his pretended Earth age, but by Irken standards, he was a giant. Possibly even as tall as the Tallest themselves. That was an interesting thought. Very interesting.  
  
There was one more thing that Zim had gained on Earth, and he'd only just recently learned to truly appreciate it. He was much more perceptive now than he had been as a young Invader. He could barely admit it to himself at first, but he'd realized long ago that his mission was a sham. He'd been given "busy work" to keep him occupied away from Irk and the Tallest, presumably so that he wouldn't be a danger to Operation Impending Doom 2. He'd wondered long and often about a lot of little things from the first day of the mission, but when he'd put them together and seen the whole picture, he'd been heartbroken. He reported to the Tallest less and less, finally stopping altogether.  
  
He very much doubted that they minded in the least.  
  
Zim's hands contorted into fists. They would pay. They would pay dearly. Not just for this pack of lies that they'd gotten him to thank them so profusely for at first, and not just for his humiliation, but also for their precious status. He would see to it. And the time was now, he decided. Now, while the anger pulsed violently through his veins and the hatred gave him strength. Now! While-  
  
GIR suddenly burst into the room, squealing happily and offering his master a plate of hot blueberry muffins. Zim temporarily lost his impassioned train of thought as he stared in bemusement at the robot. Due to an unfortunate car-chasing incident a few years previously, it had been necessary for him to partially rebuild the small robot. Acting like a human dog had taken its toll on his faithful companion. GIR was now a few inches taller, owing to the new legs that Zim had constructed for him. He seemed a little unsteady on them at times, but that was to be expected with grafted –on additions. And fortunately for Zim's wavering sanity, he'd managed to make GIR just the slightest bit more comprehensible. Another piece of gum in the robot's brain center had done wonders for making his memory stick together.  
  
Zim smacked himself in the forehead as GIR began to roll around enthusiastically in the plate of muffins that he'd dropped on the floor. He really needed to do something about GIR's basic personality. Some things were beyond the powers of even gum to cure.  
  
Ignoring the warm gooey mess and the robot in the floor, Zim turned his gaze out his window to the starry sky beyond. He would begin his preparations now for his return to Irk. Now, while the floor was still sticky and the smell of blueberries filled the air, "Wait, that doesn't seem right..?" he muttered to himself. "I'm a blueberry!" GIR squealed happily.  
  
  
  
So how cliché was that? Next chapter; Dib schemes and finds himself in a tight spot, and Gaz's GameSlave is abducted! Plus GIR is a kitty. 


	2. Dib

A/Note: You stuck around for a whole 'nother chapter? You brave soul, you!  
  
Chapter Two: Dib  
  
The trench-coated teenager paced his room. It was a habit he'd developed some ten years previously, and which he observed like some sort of strange ritual to an imaginary god of alien-pursuing, and thus far the only noticeable effect it had was an easily discernable pattern of wear on the dark carpeting. So far he'd made 9,486 attempts at capturing or exposing Zim. And so far, he had a stunningly perfect track record for abysmal and complete failure.  
  
Well, he had managed to make some very few minor victories. But even on those few occasions, he'd always lost more ground than he had gained. Everyone was against him. That blasted alien, the ignorant masses of the public who refused to believe him, even his own family! He was all alone in a desperate battle to save a planet that either didn't care or actively despised and ridiculed him.  
  
He snarled softly as he turned sharply, studying the piles of papers and books that littered his bedroom. All those fancy gadgets he'd bought or built hadn't availed him in the slightest in his quest. In fact, they'd only contributed to the legend of his so-called insanity. In disgust, he kicked at the closest stack of useless pages. Complex plans and devices just got in his way. A simple plan was what he needed. Fewer variables to figure for. He'd been setting his sights too high. Immediate and full recognition of the threat Zim posed wasn't feasible. What he needed to do was to start small. He'd do everything in his power to convince one person. Then that person would help convince others, who would convince others. It would be a domino effect of persuasion!  
  
And he knew the perfect person to help him convince others. But first, he'd need a plan. Yes, if he was to survive her attention once he had gained it, he would definitely need a plan.  
  
Gaz slumped in a recliner with the extraordinarily relaxed apparent boneless detachment of a person who'd managed to consciously attain the "alpha state" of mental activity. The external world had ceased fully to exist. Her every sense was engrossed entirely in the world shown on the small 16 color screen she held in her hands.  
  
"Gaz?"  
  
Abruptly, the spell was broken. Gaz's concentration was shattered. Her game was over. Mockingly sad music filled the air.  
  
"This had better be good, Dib. It took me three hours to get to where I was, and during that time, I didn't get a single 'save game bonus'." She slowly looked up at her brother, allowing her brown-eyed gaze to ever so slowly change from an emotionless mask to a glare of malicious proportions.  
  
Dib swallowed nervously. "Uh Gaz, this really is important." Her only reaction was to shift slightly in her seat, never changing her expression. "I just want to show you something," he continued, beginning to fidget nervously. Gaz sat up with a slight grunt. "I'm not interested, Dib." She shoved him out of her way and stood up. In her platform boots, she was every inch as tall as he was. And even without them, she was effortlessly more intimidating than he.  
  
Gaz stretched her protesting arms out in front of her, feeling the circulation flowing back into her slightly numb fingers. She'd only started high school in the past year, but she'd quickly embraced the "gothic" aesthetic that some of the older students favored in their dress, adapted it and effectively made something all her own out of the idea. Heck, she'd almost always worn black and purple and glared at the world with a perpetual squint, but now she'd become much more flamboyant about it.  
  
The full lilac skirt and long sheer black sleeves of her dress did nothing to make her look less dangerous. If anything, they only accentuated her demeanor of hostility.  
  
Dib's eyes wandered down to the game system that she'd left in her seat as she made a deliberate show of not being interested in his urgent mission. The only thing besides pepperoni with extra cheese that ever made any large impression on his sister was her Game Slave. His mouth tightened into a thin determined line. One way or the other, he was going to have her attention. With a quick lunge forward, he snatched the device and dove down the hall and out the front door with it before Gaz had time to register what had happened.  
  
With an angry snarl, she threw herself into the chase. A deadly predator in pursuit of prey. And pathetic, sibling prey, at that. It wasn't a question of if she would catch Dib. It was a question of if he would survive the encounter. If he so much as scratched the casing of her beloved Game Slave, he would be very sorry, indeed.  
  
Dib raced around the house, through the neighbor's yard, and leapt suicidally over Mrs. Gainsborough's hedge of prize-winning roses. Any distraction that would cause Gaz to detour and buy him precious seconds was worth the risk. Better that he should be scratched by flowers than impaled by a garden gnome's pointed hat, he thought as he abruptly changed direction and began sprinting for a new goal. Flinging himself through the open doorway of the Mailing Mart, he grabbed an empty box. A desperate idea had come to him, and there was no time to lose. He quickly wrapped the game slave in foam, stuffed it into the box, pouring foam peanuts around the device and sealing it. Snatching a marker from an irritated patron, he scribbled his address on the box and shoved it at a bewildered employee.  
  
"Send *gasp*... now! C.O.D.! *wheeze* Pro- *gasp* -fessor Mem.. Membrane!"  
  
With a questioning look at the young man who was now lying in a heap of near-exhaustion on the floor, the girl behind the counter tossed the box into the 'Outgoing' bin, muttering "Whatever, freak." to herself.  
  
From his place on the floor, Dib sighed in relief. Now that he had Gaz's game system held hostage for awhile in the U.S. Mail, she'd *have* to listen to him! It was flawless!  
  
He hoped…  
  
Gaz swore vehemently to herself as she ran down the street in pursuit of her brother. When she found him, she'd not only destroy him utterly, she'd crush him down to the atomic level and then stomp on the remains. She finally slowed to a stop on a corner, staring up and down the street for any sign of her older sibling. Nothing. Damn. He wasn't *that* fast, he must have ducked into one of the stores to hide from her. The question was, which one was the sniveling coward groveling in?  
  
Her question was quickly answered as the door to a postal shop on her right slowly swung open. With a snide grin, Gaz flattened herself against the wall to watch Dib exit the building. He was tired and out of breath. He wouldn't last much longer, she thought to herself as she monitored his slow but wary progress down the street.  
  
She fell into step behind him, enjoying the game of shadowing her victim-to- be. Any second now, and he'd feel her eyes murderously boring into the back of his head, or the aura of vindictive anger that she was exuding.  
  
Dib suddenly felt… a disturbance. It was as if a thousand angry supernatural demons were crying out in some unimaginably murderous chorus for his very soul, and then proceeded to stare at him in bloodthirsty silence. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and a nervous sweat began to break out on his body under the now uncomfortably warm trenchcoat. In that instant, he knew that the inevitable had indeed happened.  
  
Gaz had found him.  
  
But instead of leaping on him and attempting to tear him apart piece by piece, she was stalking him, playing with his mind. He swallowed dryly as another realization occurred to him. She wasn't just going to listen to him in exchange for the knowledge that her game system would be returned to her in tomorrow's mail. She intended to bring his life to a savage end before she let him get two words in edgewise.  
  
But for now, she was just following him, probably either thinking he wasn't aware of her presence yet, or she was just enjoying him pretend not to know that she was looming over him like some sort of macabre visage of death itself. Dib suppressed a surge of fear that threatened to wash over him like a tsunami. Okay, so calm reasoning with Gaz wasn't going to work. He only had one possible hope. Taking a few deep breaths, he forced himself to start running again. He had to lure Gaz inside of Zim's supposed house. If she saw the alien menace herself up close, perhaps she'd spare his life and agree to help him spread the word about the invader.  
  
He'd be willing to settle for her just sparing his life, though.  
  
-------  
  
  
  
Gaz sneered silently as her brother staggered into a pathetic attempt at a run. Where did he think that he could run, that she couldn't follow? At the rate he was going, she mused, he'd drop dead of exhaustion. She snorted in exasperation. For someone who spent half his time running around trying to make an idiot of himself, he was certainly in bad shape.  
  
The awkwardly paced chase finally found its way to the strangely proportioned teal house that was Dib's desperately sought target. The young man flung himself past the oddly unresponsive lawn gnomes, taking no chances of being incinerated by their lasers. A few more lurching steps and he was through the front door, casting frenzied looks all around him for an avenue of escape or an alien. Truthfully, either one would do.  
  
He paused, hearing Gaz's heavy boots kicking the door back open forcefully. "Why don't you just face the music, Dib?" Gaz asked, glaring at him icily as she stalked forward through the strange living room. "Gaz! You've got to listen to me! I just want to show you the.." Gaz sneered slightly. "Yeah, yeah, the alien. I know, I know. You've only been yapping about this alien crap nonstop for almost our entire lives." Dib backed away from his advancing sister, stammering slightly. "But, but Gaz, if you'd just let me show you, I can prove it!"  
  
Gaz smacked a fist into her open palm. "Dib, I keep telling you this, but you never listen. I don't *care*!" She lunged forward, knocking them both through what looked externally like a closet door and down through a long connection of tubes that finally deposited them in a pile with a heavy "thud". Dib woozily sat up, trying to focus on his surroundings. He finally recognized the setting as the heavily customized interior of a late-model sports car. Very heavily modified, in fact. Some parts of it looked so strange as to appear downright... alien?  
  
Dib gasped in horror as the figure in the front seat turned to glare at him with an infuriated pupil-less crimson-eyed gaze. Zim snarled in annoyance. "If you're here to try and stop me from taking over your *pathetic* planet," he began, nearly spitting the last two words "Don't bother. I've got a new mission, and I can't be bothered with your smelly little ball of dirt anymore."  
  
Dib straightened under the insulting description of his home. "Giving up so easily? I knew this day would come, I-" Zim made a face at the statement, interrupting. "Actually, I've decided that I'm going to go home for a reason that has nothing to do with you, sniveling worm baby." Dib narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "And what reason is that, ZIM?" The alien made a sound of disgust as he regarded the intruding human. "I'm going back for revenge." he responded in a tone that made Dib's scalp prickle. "But first, I have to get you off my ship!" Zim suddenly shouted, looking over the controls that sprouted out of the car dash seemingly at random. "If I can just find that damned eject button before the countdown starts..."  
  
Dib stared in disbelief as the alien summarily dismissed him. Zim... leaving? It didn't seem possible. It was unthinkable that he should be deprived his vindication. After a decade of ridicule and disappointment, it was time for him to gain the respect and recognition that he deserved! Blast it all, it wasn't fair!  
  
His inner tirade was halted as Zim suddenly leapt towards the control panel, screaming in protest as a deep-pitched, slightly put-out voice announced "Ship launch sequence; activated." Through the remaining car windows, Dib could see the bizarre pipes and conduits that formed the structure they were enclosed in retracting, daylight suddenly poured down into the suddenly humble-seeming hole as overhead the illusion of the house dissolved back into nothingness as if by magic.  
  
A low pitched rumble announced the engines of the craft coming to life, even as the "floor" beneath them began to vanish. And suddenly, the craft pitched back, angling for the sky as it roared out of the vast hole revealing the network of subterranean tunnels and chasms that were the only remaining monument to the fact that something had once occupied the space. Arcing slowly across the skyline, the ship began to accelerate, the screen superimposed upon the front windshield depicted the computer plotting the trajectory to escape the planet's gravitational pull. Even as Dib realized this, the computer's voice came again. "Determining trajectory and course. Processing." The vocal circuits strained with the effort as it repeated itself, "PROCESSING!"  
  
Dib grabbed for the alien in the front seat. "What are you doing, abducting us?" He turned to look at Gaz, who was shrugging indifferently at the idea. Zim flung his assailant back away from him with a gloved hand. "I am not abducting you! I'm being forced to drag you two unwelcome hitchhikers along because you invited yourselves into my ship when I was trying to take off!" Dib flinched back involuntarily from the insult before trying again to get hold of his captor. "If you don't want us here, then let us out!" Zim grinned evilly at the notion. "As much as I'd love to toss you out from a few thousand of your feet up," the grin intensified as Dib paled. "I unfortunately can't. The system failsafes won't let me stop the process now!" Zim screamed at the top of his lungs, waving an irate fist in the air to demonstrate his anger as the word "ENGAGED" flashed on the display in front of him and the planet rotated swiftly and sickeningly away into the dark sky.  
  
Dib gaped in fear and astonishment as his town, and then his world faded into obscurity below. "But- but I don't want to go!" he feebly protested, choking on the words. "Aw, what's the matter, Dib? All that big talk about alien chasing, and as soon as you're off your disgustingly homely planet, you turn into a quivering mass of whiny goo." Zim chuckled, enjoying turning the tables on his former tormenter. "Why don't you suck on a towel or something if you're in such need of comforting?"  
  
With that, Zim glanced over at the other passenger of his strange hybrid vehicle's back seat. Gaz was unalarmed by the events, calmly ignoring the scene of the Earth vanishing at alarming speed behind them as if it were a common everyday sight that deserved no more notice than a mailbox on the curb. She barely spared him a glance, so preoccupied was she with the small robot that had situated itself in her lap. She seemed to be scratching the back of GIR's head as he devoured the attention gratefully.  
  
GIR hopped up abruptly, realizing Zim was staring at him. "All systems ready and preparing to engage, my master!" he declared. He saluted smartly as his eyes flashed from their usual bluish color to a bright red. Zim felt an expression similar to what humans might refer to as an eyebrow being raised slowly progress involuntarily over his face as he stared at the dysfunctional SIR unit. "And... what are you doing, GIR?" he asked quietly, dreading the answer already. GIR's eyes returned to normal as he happily squeaked "I'm a kitty! PUUUURRRRRR!" in reply before plopping himself back down in the amused girl's lap.  
  
Gaz snickered at the exchange and Zim's look of total exasperation before indifferently looking down in the floorboard, where Dib had curled up into a small ball of quaking terror. "Interesting robot," she observed, looking back up at their unwilling pilot. "Don't remind me." Zim muttered in disgust. "As long as he doesn't start singing the 'Doom Song', we might just survive this trip sanely." He paused before correcting himself. "Well, except for Dib."  
  
Gaz chuckled in agreement and leaned back against her comfortable seat. "So how long is this trip?" Zim thought for a moment, recalling the trip from Conventia. "Well, it'll take about six months for us to reach Irken space." he finally announced, eliciting a scream from Dib. "Six months? SIX MONTHS!" Zim and Gaz grimaced as their companion shrieked in distress. "Six months. That's a long time for me to go without my games, DIB. I suggest you shut up now and be quiet if you want to live through the trip." she said quietly and with just enough menace to quiet him down.  
  
Zim couldn't help but be impressed at the quick response. He'd figured that bludgeoning the hysterical human with GIR was going to be the only way to silence his caterwauling. GIR suddenly sat up, enraptured by the view of hyperspace that was shooting past them at incredible speed. "Ooh! I remember this!" he cried suddenly, causing a knot of nervous anxiety to bunch up in Zim's lower abbluma. Oh no, he couldn't be getting ready to- "I'm gonna sing the Doom Song!" he announced just before Zim shoved him back into Gaz's hands, with the brusque command "Be a kitty. Now." GIR looked puzzled for a moment, then gave a satisfied sigh as he sank back into the girl's lap. "Okay! Purrrrrrrr... Purrrrrr...." If he had been making the sound in question instead of just repeating the word used to describe it, it might have made some sort of sense.  
  
Dib made some horrible sounds from the floor. "Oh great," Gaz growled in distaste. "I think Dib's going to be space-sick." Zim made a disgusted sound and climbed over the seat to toss the ailing human into a small aft compartment. "And clean up when you're done!" he shouted at the sealed door.  
  
  
  
Next time: GIR's point of view, Dib gets a new hairstyle, and Zim talks about his "car". 


	3. GIR

A/Note: So now I know what you people respond to… Dib's hair!  
  
Chapter Three: GIR  
  
GIR loved attention. Almost as much as he loved tuna and cupcakes, in fact. And in the absence of any video games to encompass Gaz's attention, he was receiving plenty from her. Considering the cramped quarters that the small crew was subjected to, it was best for all concerned that the two of them were occupied.  
  
Not that any of that made much difference to GIR. He didn't really care if he frightened the strange trenchcoat boy by jumping on his head and screaming "Give me raisins! Give me raisins to suck your brain!" He didn't even usually care if he annoyed Zim, unless he got yelled at. GIR didn't like to be yelled at. It made him sad, because he really wanted to be a good robot and help his master in every way possible. He just had the bad habit of miscalculating what would make his master happy. Well, that and the unfortunate flaw of having an attention span of around three milliseconds.  
  
  
  
Gaz turned around in her seat to watch GIR playing with the still slightly ill Dib's hair as he lay sprawled across the back seat. She smiled slightly as the robot exclaimed "You need a new look!" and proceeded to pour a glob of something that smelled and looked suspiciously like aerosol cheese onto her brother's head as if it were hair gel, and attempted to sculpt a miniature Mt. Rushmore into it. Dib gave a soft and rather piteous moan in protest, but made no move to stop the small robot. Not that he was probably capable of much movement at all. She turned back around to notice Zim staring at her oddly.  
  
"What's your deal?" she muttered, her mood somewhat soured. He shrugged slightly and stole a look back at GIR's handiwork. "Why do you like GIR so much?" he asked, indicating the gleefully oblivious robot. Gaz made an indifferent gesture and backed her seat up enough to allow her to put her feet up on an empty space in the dash. "I happen to like machines." she replied. "If they're stupid, it's the fault of the people who made them, not their own." She paused for a moment to stretch her arms out in front of her and ease the tension in her shoulders before elaborating. "People are just stupid, they *OUGHT* to know better, and I've got no patience for them."  
  
Zim blinked. He frankly hadn't expected an answer of more than two words, let alone one that upon scrutiny seemed to be slightly profound. A cry of cheesy trauma from Dib suddenly made Zim look back at the drama playing itself out in the rear seat. Dib had regained enough lucidity to express his displeasure at GIR's handiwork. "What have you done to my head!?" he half-screamed, trying to grab the delighted SIR unit, who was convinced that this was some new game that they were playing. "I gave it rich bacon- cheddar-y goodness!" A pause. "With half the fat!" GIR cried, diving for the sanctuary of the front seat. "I made it! Touchdown!" he squealed joyfully.  
  
Dib snarled as Gaz grinned. "See Dib? Even GIR thinks you have a fat head." Zim found himself fighting the urge to begin laughing himself as Dib sputtered and fumed under a healthy coating of artificially flavored processed cheese topping. "You'll pay for this, you little menace!" Dib vowed. "Just you wait until I can find a can opener! I'm sick and tired of being humiliated!"  
  
Gaz ignored her brother's continuing rant, but Zim found himself pausing at the declaration. It seemed impossible, but he almost felt a sort of... of kinship with his sworn enemy. He was wrested from his thoughts as GIR tugged on his sleeve. "Master? What's wrong?" Zim blinked slowly at the little robot. For so long, GIR had been his only ally and nearly fatal unintentional saboteur in a strange world. He had loathed the robot's very existence many times, wishing for the solitude of his earlier solo missions, when the only havoc that would reign in his vicinity was havoc he himself was wrecking. He'd screamed at the machine, hurled insults at it to no end, and come very close to devastating physical violence on several occasions. And yet GIR still stuck to him. And most of the time it had nothing to do with Looney Glue.  
  
At first he'd thought it was simply because the eccentric SIR had no concept of self-preservation. But there were times, like just now, when he felt a sort of... of concern coming from behind those softly glowing blue eyes. He absent-mindedly patted the robot on the head, gaining a happy chirp of reassurance as GIR plopped back down into the seat to stare at a coloring book he'd pulled out of the glove box. Zim found himself considering something about Gaz's earlier statement. While she might be right about all other devices, Earthly, Irken or other, that he had encountered in his travels, there was something different about GIR.  
  
For one thing, GIR was only in the loosest sense programmed. Of course, what else could he expect of a computer brain made of gum, paperclips and some loose change? There was no good reason why the small robot should function, especially when he kept tuna in his jets and bees in his head cavity. GIR even performed modifications on himself that removed systems and parts that should have erased what memory he had, or cut off his power altogether. How the thing managed to eat was beyond his ability to even speculate. And no matter what mishap the little droid went through, the basic 'personality' of the device always seemed to survive intact.  
  
All in all, GIR reminded him of the younger human worm babies that he had encountered, that didn't know how to sit still, be quiet, or follow complicated directions. He sincerely doubted that the Tallest had realized the significance of the unit's activation. In some strange way, life had come to the little pile of cast-off junk and battered circuits.  
  
Shaking off the thought, he found himself considering his former rival in the back seat. He had never thought about it much, but Dib was a bit of a... kindred spirit. Even if he was mocked and belittled for different reasons than Zim had, he felt the same sort of anger and frustration at having his best efforts sneered at. Of being constantly compared to a relative who was thought highly of. Even of being isolated and alone. Zim sighed and shook his head. He must be going soft in the head to be having such thoughts. Introspection was not an attribute encouraged in Invaders.  
  
Well, all the better, he decided as he recalled the purpose of his self- assigned mission. He was no longer an Irken Invader. Now, he would be a conqueror. In three more months, the CONQUEST would begin.  
  
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It didn't take long for the group to fall into a routine in the small, enclosed space of Zim's modified vehicle. After about a month of examination of what remained of the car's interior, Dib decided that in its previous life, this must have been the neglected shell of a late model pontiac that had sat on the lawn of one of Zim's unsuspecting neighbors for a good three or four years before vanishing without a trace one day. Obviously, Zim had either bought the car's remains (unlikely), or had just decided to make off with them one evening.  
  
Finally one day (although day was a subjective term in the darkness of space), Dib was bored enough with the week long session of I Spy that was going on between the other three passengers to ask about it. "Hey Zim, where'd you get the car?" "IIIIII spy wit' my lil' eye… SOMETHING BLACK!" GIR announced. "Space..?" Dib guessed for the five-thousandth time. "The Dib is goooooooood!" GIR marveled as his master considered the question.  
  
The Irken shrugged slightly, leaning his seat back. "Found parts here and there." Dib scoffed. "Like in your neighbor's yard?" Zim looked up, staring at Dib's reflection in the rear-view mirror. "You really had too much time on your hands as a kid, didn't you?" The young man in the back seat made an indifferent gesture. "Oh relax. I didn't see you take it. I was just thinking that it looked sort of familiar."  
  
Satisfied with this explanation, and in the mood to brag, Zim elaborated on his engineering. "Yes, I believe it was a fiery bird or something of that nature. My own vehicle was not going to be serviceable as an effective means of transport much longer given my rate of growth, so I decided to build my own. If you were to see this ship from the outside, I doubt very much that you'd recognize it. As you can see, I've raised the frame, lowered the seats in the rear, and added an aft compartment for obvious reasons. The space that was formerly wasted on a hopelessly backward internally-combusted engine is now storage space. The engines of my old ship, I'm proud to say, needed only a little bit of tweaking to be able to handle this load with ease." he paused for a moment. "Although come to think of it, I did hang on to that V8 supercharger from the old engine to help out with that..."  
  
Dib stared around as this explanation took place, noting the odd deviations that were visible. "Where *are* the engines?" he finally asked, earning a grin from the increasingly egotistical alien. "On the outside, of COURSE. On the rear on either side of the grafted section of the ship, and one here." he pointed at the space beneath he and Gaz. "You have to have three points of balance for stability in a gravitational well like a planet. And there are some other, minor steering boosters here and there, of course. All in all the conversion took about four years, and it came out much better than I'd anticipated."  
  
GIR suddenly leapt up from the floorboard. "And I helped!" he gleefully cried, pointing at himself with no small amount of pride. Zim sighed tolerantly. "So then it took me another month to fix what he'd helped with," he admitted, "and another still to make GIR's memory more tolerable for these sort of purposes."  
  
Gaz chuckled appreciatively. "So why a trans am?" she asked, only slightly curious. Zim coughed in embarrassment. Something that sounded like "It was as close as I could find to a DeLorean" was muttered as the two humans began to laugh. "What!?" he demanded "I was going for style! But this frame worked better than a DeLorean would have, anyway." Dib removed his glasses to wipe away a tear of mirth. "Why's that?" he asked, replacing them with a last chuckle. Zim was a bit indignant as he answered. "The shape. It's a recent enough car to have a nicely rounded design. It melds better with the parts of the Voot Runner that I added to it."  
  
Finally, a slightly uncomfortable silence fell between them as discussion of Zim's mechanical prowess and apparently new-found eye for coordination waned. Dib plucked at a loose thread that was dangling from his collar nervously as he considered his next question. It had been almost the promised six months that Zim had forecast it would take to reach the sector of space controlled by the Irken Empire.  
  
During that time, they'd all talked and very nearly become friends. They were tolerant enemies, at least. He was stunned when he realized that his companions weren't constantly teasing and belittling him, like the few friends he'd had in school always ended up doing. In fact, he could have sworn that he'd seen looks of sympathetic understanding from the alien he'd pursued with near-religious fervor for the past several years of his life when he'd complained about being belittled. He wondered about that a bit. Something had obviously happened to turn Zim against his own people, but what? And was it something similar to his own experience? Some sort of reaction to what he could only imagine had been the utter failure of Zim's attempted invasion?  
  
"So Zim, we're almost there, huh?" he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant about it as possible. Zim nodded curtly, his light mood suddenly shadowed. "Yes, soon we will reach Irk." He seemed disinclined to elaborate further, so Dib decided to prompt him again.  
  
"You said you were going back for... revenge?" Zim's expression darkened farther, a disapproving frown contorting his face slightly. "Yes." the alien shoved GIR's bouncy form away from him in annoyance. "And since you've gotten yourselves involved in it, I might as well tell you why. It's complicated, but I'll make my explanation as simple as I can." he avoided following up the insult that was left hanging in the air.  
  
"On my world, Irk, we choose our leader by height. By custom, whoever has the greatest height gains the title of Almighty Tallest. I was the shortest Irken of my entire generation… in fact of several generations previously; and suffered great humiliation and persecution because of it. My efforts to prove myself always went disastrously awry, but I never lost faith in my Tallest and the Empire." Zim's voice was embittered, but sad as he began his explanation, but now it had taken on a more angry tone. "I was sent to Earth, supposedly for an assignment, but I later discovered that it was all a farce to keep me out of the way. But something happened on Earth..."  
  
Dib leaned forward, interrupting. "You grew! That's it, isn't it?" Zim nodded slowly. "Yes, and once I diagnosed the reason why, I realized that Irk is living a huge lie. The title and position of Tallest has been manipulated, perhaps for hundreds of thousands of years! Can you imagine? It would be like discovering that your Earth had been governed secretly by... by a secret cult of penguins or something!" Dib's eyes widened slightly at the idea as Zim continued.  
  
"I intend to go back, find out who's controlling the title and height of the Tallest, and then make them pay!" Dib looked exultant at this proclamation. "You want to liberate the rest of your kind from oppression and an unfair way of life?" he asked, his eyes becoming large and noticeably shiny with admiration. Zim made a face. "No, I'm going to stomp on their heads once for every time I've been called 'Zimp the Shrimp' in my entire life. Then I'll just see how I feel afterwards." Dib gaped in disbelief as Gaz snickered appreciatively. "You're too short-sighted, Dib." she muttered, attempting to pry GIR off of the rear view mirror, where he was making faces at the "other robot" he saw reflected there.  
  
Zim ignored the crestfallen look on Dib's face. "When we arrive, I intend to carry out my plan. I don't care what you do, as long as you stay out of my way. I warn you, though- ally yourselves with my enemies at your own risk." he hissed lethally. Gaz found a stale twinkie in the floorboard and offered it to GIR. "Personally, I think it sounds like fun." she stated in an offhand way that caught both of her other companions by surprise.  
  
"Are you crazy?" Dib asked, giving his sister an incredulous glare. Zim stared at her in surprise. "Fun?" he repeated in disbelief. "Yeah," Gaz responded as GIR made a puppet out of his fossilized snack cake. "Like some of my games, only better." Dib smacked himself in the forehead with an open palm. "You don't get extra lives in this game, Gaz!" he warned. Gaz sneered at him in that disturbingly predatory way she had. "I love a challenge." she answered simply.  
  
  
  
----  
  
  
  
What can I say, don't ever let GIR fill in for your current stylist. Will Dib ever rid himself of the smoky-cheesy scent? Eventually… probably. No points for recognizing the "Back to the Future" reference, but Unknowner gets one for noticing the slight 'Guide influence.  
  
  
  
Next time: Arrival on Irk is… interesting. Zim lucks into a fabulous plan, GIR goes full-on into Earth-withdrawal at long last, and I'm sure a couple of people may enjoy the encore appearance of the Almighty Tallest! 


	4. Arrival on Irk

A/Note: I'd like to thank all of you who've reviewed so far! Invader Rhea, Ivory, PRHG, Kat23a, Unknowner and invader-jazz, you all have me absolutely blushing, lol! And DeadRatSam, I'm flattered that you found the story so far to be involving enough to scrutinize so closely. So to answer your questions… Well I started writing this sometime previous to last July. I still don't know how old the kids are supposed to be any better than I did then. So when editing, I left my random guess at the amount of time that had passed at the beginning as-is. I'm assuming here that Dib is eighteen now. Wild, wild guess and most probably wrong, but anyway..  
  
Besides, a decade is such a nice round number, isn't it? And yep, there is a small bathroom in the rear of their ship. As for Gaz and any monthly business… Well I can't imagine anyone'd really want a detailed synopsis on that. You can either assume that she takes over the counter birth control pills to avoid dealing with it (sounds like a Gaz-type thing to do to me..) or just chalk it up to a hole in the plot. *shrugs* Probably go with the plot hole, lol. 'Sides, this story's not to be taken too seriously, as the title probably told you. Plot hole recognition point for ya!  
  
Anyway! Welcome to chapter four, where we finally get to Irk! You'll have to wait awhile for the title to make sense though… And sorry about the uploading error, I think I've got it fixed now… *embarrassed*  
  
Chapter Four: Arrival on Irk  
  
Zim carefully maneuvered his oddly shaped vehicle through the perils of Irken space. So far they'd managed to elude detection, but it had been very close. While he loved the thrill of danger, Zim wasn't stupid. At least, not anymore. His self-assigned mission would be pointless if he were killed by a patrol ship whose operator had an itchy trigger finger.  
  
Dib stared out the window beside him nervously. Somehow, he'd been able to pretend that this whole thing was some long post pizza-stealing-beating nightmare until now. He was in unfriendly space with an unfriendly host who was bent on waging war on an entire planet of vicious unfriendly aliens, his unfriendly sister, and a crazed robot who kept trying to make statues out of cheese on his head.  
  
All things considered, his life had taken a sharp downhill turn.  
  
The eighteen year old leaned against his folded-up trenchcoat, which he'd been using as a pillow. He'd never asked for any of this. All he'd ever wanted was a little recognition. Recognition from his father and sister had never been forthcoming, so he'd turned in desperation to the rest of the human race. If all of humanity held him in respect, then surely his father at least would take the time to shake his hand and say something like, "Good job, son. I'm proud of you.", instead of "My poor, insane son…" or "Can't talk now, Dib! Those nucleotides won't isolate themselves, you know!"  
  
Dib sighed wistfully, and immediately regretted it as GIR suddenly popped into view, gazing at him in fascination over Gaz's shoulder. "Aw... why's the pointy-hair trenchcoat man sad?" the robot cooed softly. Dib pouted slightly as he glared back into the robot's innocently stupid stare. It just figured. When he *did* manage to gain someone's attention, it was never what he wanted. It either meant he was going to get hurt, or look really stupid. Or possibly even be hurt as someone made him look stupid.  
  
"Scram," he growled at the small android. GIR startled slightly, and glanced to either side of himself in apparent confusion. "Where?" he asked. Dib returned his gaze to the window as a few of the system's planets came into view through the glass. He stared past his miserable looking pale reflection at the worlds that he supposed were full of alien beings. 'But *you're* the alien here, Dib.' a soft voice in his head insisted quietly. He chose to ignore that thought, just as he ignored GIR pulling himself up into his lap to look for the "scram".  
  
  
  
Zim glared contemptuously at a few bright specks that showed up on his viewing screen as small Irken vehicles of the typical make for invaders as they cruised past the odd looking hybrid vehicle. The game was especially dangerous now in the early stages, out among the vicious and sometimes curious ships of the Irken Empire.  
  
He smiled to himself suddenly. Had he really just referred to all of this as a game? 'Gaz must be rubbing off on me.' he thought, amazed that the idea didn't make him feel as disturbed as he thought it really should. Zim returned his gaze to the view screen to watch the ships carefully as they slowly moved out of range of his craft. He wished that the traffic around Irk wasn't so thick. It was going to be difficult enough to get his Voot- bird on the ground without flocks of spectators and potential questioners.  
  
As he took in the patterns of vehicles traveling to and from the planet that was beginning to loom larger on the screen ahead, Zim began to formulate his strategy for avoiding the main lanes of travel and sneaking onto the planet. A sound from beside him made him look up sharply.  
  
"So that's Irk, huh?" Gaz asked. Zim decided to ignore the fact that she sounded disgracefully unimpressed. "Yes. That is my home world." Gaz frowned at their view of the planet. "So... why's it look like it's been half-roasted?" she asked, indicating the uneven pattern of dark charred surface that was clearly visible through the atmosphere, even from this distance. "It looks like there was a war or something and half the place was destroyed."  
  
Zim coughed nervously. "Ah, well half the planet... *was* destroyed, actually. But there wasn't a war going on." He fidgeted slightly. "Yet." Gaz turned to stare at him oddly, prompting him to continue. "We were preparing for a massive invasion scheme..." he trailed off, hesitantly. Gaz smirked slightly in suspicion. "Okay, okay!" Zim growled, "I got carried away testing out a device of rampaging doom! Happy now!?"  
  
Gaz smiled but said nothing. In the backseat, Dib snickered quietly. "You destroyed half of your own planet? Geez Zim, you're a regular spaz!" he chortled. Zim ground his teeth in annoyance. "Oh yes? And tell me, *Dib*, what was that story about you sighting the Loch Ness monster in your bathtub?" Zim asked in an overly-sugared tone.  
  
Dib fumed at the alien's inquiry. "It was NOT the Loch Ness monster! It was BIGFOOT!" Zim glanced sideways, noting in amusement that Gaz was mouthing the words of her brother's speech along with him. "I tell you, I saw Bigfoot! And he was in the garage using dad's belt sander!" Zim stifled a snicker and returned his attention to the controls. With a grin, he dove the ship sharply planetward. "Whatever, Earthanoid. Now pipe down so I can land this thing."  
  
Gaz stepped out of the rubble surrounding the ship with a frown. "I hope no one saw that." she muttered softly, casting a wary gaze at the surrounding area for any sign that they'd been discovered. Zim finally succeeded in climbing out of the ship as it lay on its side, and jumped to the ground. "You think you hope no one saw that? My reputation as a consummate pilot would be crushed to ATOMS if anyone suspected that..." He trailed off, noting the look of irritation growing on Gaz's face.  
  
Dib lay panting on the ground. "I really hate space travel." he wheezed, just before GIR used him as a landing cushion. "Whheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" squealed the robot as he bounced slightly into the air and landed beside the long-suffering teenager. "I made a good landing!" he boasted, looking expectantly towards his master for approval.  
  
Zim sighed and rubbed at his aching red eyes with his hand. "GIR?"  
  
"Yeeeeeees?"  
  
"The next time you think it would be a good idea to help me drive?"  
  
"Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees?"  
  
"DON'T!"  
  
GIR made a frightened squeal and looked surprised and hurt at his master's orders. "But... I'm supposed to help master..." he insisted weakly, throwing pleading looks to the others. Finally, Zim sighed in defeat. "Fine GIR, but you will help me when instructed to do so! Not just because the thought pops into your loosely wired mind!"  
  
Gaz glared slightly at Zim. "Give him a break, Zim. He just doesn't know any better." Zim paced around the crater their ship had made in the charred soil of Irk. "Oh yes, give him a break... Has it occurred to you, Gaz, that he could have killed us all?!" Gaz crossed her arms. "Well, he didn't, now did he?" The two locked hot-tempered gazes. GIR stared back and forth between them in hopeful confusion. Dib rubbed his aching stomach and sat up, finally pulling himself to his feet and climbing back up on the overturned vehicle to retrieve his coat. It was the one solid link he had to his home planet, and while he refused to think of it as a security blanket, he couldn't bear the thought of walking around HERE of all places, without it.  
  
Finally, the incensed Irken backed off slightly. "You'd just better be very very very, very, VERY careful in the future, GIR." he growled, pointing a finger at the overjoyed machine. "Oh THANK YOU, Master!" GIR cried, leaping onto the startled Zim to grab him in a hug.  
  
Zim stood there with the small robot hanging off of him for a moment, wondering if it was possible somewhere in the universe to find ritalin in hyperactive robot size doses, then squirmed free of his SIR unit's grip. "Yes, yes, all is forgiven. Whatever. Now! Onward! My vengeance of DOOM awaits! BEWARE, all who oppose the might of Zim! Now we should move the Voot-bird just in case someone should investi-  
  
Dib looked back down at Zim as the former firebird's door slammed shut. "Oh, I locked it." Zim stared. "Dib… I know you didn't just do that." "Just hand me the key?" Dib requested, puzzled at the alien's reaction. "Well, that would be a neat trick indeed considering that they're STILL IN THE IGNITION!" Zim bellowed, throwing his head back to fully express his rage. "Why'd you do that!?" Dib cried, frantically pulling on the door handle. "Why did YOU lock the doors!?" Zim retorted.  
  
After hyperventilating for a few moments, Zim finally gave a harsh exhale and willed the frustration away. It didn't matter now, after all. The only thing to do was to start walking and try to make progress as quickly as possible. "Enough of this foolishness. I have a world to subjugate!"  
  
As he purposefully strode off in a completely random direction, Zim glanced back over his shoulder to see Dib rushing to catch up with him and Gaz trailing behind listening to some inane prattle from GIR. He considered his companions for a moment. Would they survive the perils of Irk? Should he be mortified by the fact that he found himself hoping that they would? Lengthening his stride, Zim tried to leave his increasingly frequent odd thoughts behind and focus on finding the nearest city. His strike team would need supplies, and food. Besides, given the unorthodox landing they'd had, someone was bound to show up looking for the cause of the disturbance eventually. It wouldn't do to be captured right after planet fall by some rookie investigating a "meteor". He was fairly certain that a large metropolitan area of some sort had flashed momentarily through his vision as they had "landed." Somewhere to the east, he thought. "Come on, come on, I haven't got all day here!" he demanded, leading his motley crew in that general direction.  
  
  
  
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Purple leaned lazily back in his chair, considering the reports on the handheld data screen before him. All of them from invaders, all of them at least moderately successful, all of them exceedingly boring. He yawned. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was very odd about the reports today. Something was... just not right. Something was missing. Something was-  
  
"Lasers!" Red suddenly cried gleefully, triggering a quick burst of light energy at his melancholy counterpart. Purple growled and rubbed at his stinging eye. "Oh thanks. You know, I think I'm starting to go blind in that eye thanks to you!" He pulled himself upright with a grunt of effort, and began laboriously dusting himself off as Red snickered unapologetically.  
  
"Honestly," he grumbled "You're as single-mindedly destructive as..." Purple's expression suddenly contorted to one of horror, and he grabbed for the data screen.  
  
Red stared skeptically at Purple's display. "What... are you doing?" he finally asked, crossing his arms in annoyance. He was suddenly nearly bludgeoned by the data screen, which Purple thrust towards his face.  
  
"It CAN'T be!" Purple gasped hysterically, "Look! Look! It- it's ZIM!" Red swiped the screen away from the babbling Irken and looked it over, expecting to see a note of some long, inane report from their least favorite invader, and finding nothing. "Where? I don't see anything from Zim." he muttered in confusion.  
  
Purple grabbed Red's collar, forcibly regaining his attention. "That's just it! Every single day since he got on whatever the heck planet that was..."  
  
"Earth." Red supplied.  
  
"Whatever! The point is that he reported to us about that insane place nearly every day for years! Finally they trailed off to a trickle and then stopped, but as of today we haven't heard from him for a WHOLE FIVE YEARS! The only possible explanation..." he trailed off as Red gaped in realization. "He's finally gone for good!" the two Tallest exclaimed in unison, failing to suppress the urge to jump up and down with unbridled joy.  
  
"He MUST be dead or something," Red agreed, "I mean, to miss five full years of reporting in? Not even so much as a text message…?" he sniffled slightly, overcome with sentimentality. "I don't think I've ever been so happy!" he exclaimed, breaking down into uncontrolled joyful sobbing. Purple nodded, regaining a bit of his composure. "I think we should declare this a national holiday or something, don't you? Something like... 'No More Zim' day." The purple Tallest frowned slightly as a disturbing thought occurred to him. "What if we find out that he's not dead?" he asked.  
  
Red wiped at his eyes with a tissue. "Well, if he hasn't reported in at all after so long, that probably means he can't. Which means either he *is* dead, or he's been captured and subjected to gruesome torture and will eventually be killed, or he's managed to destroy his communication equipment." Red shrugged. "And he hasn't shown up here, which we know isn't because he's too shy to come and ask for replacements in person." Purple rolled his eyes disgustedly and nodded as Red continued. "So no problem. Zim no longer a threat to Irk."  
  
Purple sighed slightly, his wonderful mood still refusing to come back to him completely. "Still... I can't help but wonder..." he murmured, looking out over the blackened surface of Irk that was barely visible above the rooftops of Empire City.  
  
-------  
  
Dib stared up at the skyscrapers of the city that Zim had finally managed to lead them into after almost a whole day of wandering around in the charred Irken desert. The buildings were so similar to ones he was familiar with in functionality, but so... oddly alien in design. There was just something about the way that the lines of construction met that made the place look strange to someone used to the blank boxes of Earth's typical metropolitan structures.  
  
"Dib! Quit gawking like a tourist and get over here!" Zim whispered urgently. Dib hurried guiltily over to the alleyway where Zim and Gaz were impatiently waiting for him with Zim's hyperactive robot.  
  
"It's almost time for the Scary Monkey Show!" GIR suddenly announced, looking around for a television set. "Master? How're we going to watch the Scary Monkey Show here?" Zim groaned softly. "We aren't *going* to watch the Scary Monkey Show, GIR."  
  
The robot blinked. "Oh. Then can I have a chocolate bubblegum?"  
  
"We don't have chocolate bubblegum on Irk."  
  
"Oooooooh... I get it! Because otherwise there'd be no room for the tuna!"  
  
Zim felt a migraine coming on. "No GIR. There is NO Scary Monkey Show, no chocolate bubblegum, and certainly NO tuna on Irk!" GIR's expression changed to one of sheer panic. "But! But I NEED the tuna!" he cried in the desperate tone of someone with an addiction entering the third stage of withdrawal. "I want to go home!" he cried, dissolving into sobs.  
  
Gaz gently picked up the robot as it sniffled. "I don't like it here, Master!" GIR pleaded. "I want to go home, where we have tv, and brain freezies, and tuna... Oh! And cupcakes! I looooove cupcakes!" his tone gradually became more excited as he spoke. "Ooooooooh! Master! What if they combined tuna and cupcakes!?"  
  
From behind Zim, Dib pessimistically supplied "People'd get nauseous." Either not hearing this interjection or not caring, GIR continued to ramble onward. "Tuna-cakes! Two great tastes that taste great together! Fudgy and fishy and good to the last scale-crumb!"  
  
Gaz suddenly clamped a hand over GIR's mouth. "I heard something." Dib looked sick. "Yeah, we all heard something. And I don't think I'll ever look at cupcakes or tuna the same way again." Gaz shook her head impatiently, pointing with her free hand in the direction of the street. "I think someone's coming!" she whispered urgently.  
  
Zim grabbed the two humans and dragged them back through the alleyway and through the open access door of what was apparently one of the Irken military's main tailoring shops. Rummaging through a storage bin frantically, he tried to find something to disguise them with. Dib, panicked and disoriented, dove into a large box full of foam packing material. GIR gave a happy squeal and leapt into the receptacle after him.  
  
"In here Snalz, I know I saw someone in the alley!"  
  
Zim and Gaz glanced at each other in panic, then struggled to get into a pair of long hooded robes that they had found. Frantically hoping that Gaz's robe was long enough to hide her obviously non-Irken boots, Zim turned to the opening door just as two silhouetted figures strode purposefully into the room.  
  
  
  
So there you have it! Will our crew get caught!? Who are these newcomers and what do they want? Will I manage to upload without goofing it next time? Of course you know there's only one way to find out.  
  
Next time: The Enforcers (one of two concepts that are entirely mine!) make their entrance, Zim's plan swings into action, and Gaz is irritated. Like you couldn't see THAT coming..? 


	5. Enforcers!

A/Note: Wow, this story must really have some kind of hook that makes people pay attention to the little details…? Don't worry too much, Karyx, I'm not mad at you, lol. Nope, I didn't take chemistry in High School. But in the science labs I did take that involved chemicals we were always warned to dry a spilled chemical off of ourselves immediately, not to run water over it. Because some acids react more strongly to water, y'know. As for whether or not that one scenic plot point is going to come up eventually… well I still haven't decided. Special thanks to Black Jacket for bringing it to my attention that I'd goofed that upload last time. And thanks also to all of you again for reviewing!  
  
Claimer!: The concept of the Enforcers is mine! Snalz and Quev are also mine, lol. But they're definitely not self-inserts. More about them later though…  
  
Chapter Five: Enforcers!  
  
"Halt! Identify yourselves!" the first enforcer shouted as he hit the activator for the overhead lights. Zim squinted in the blinding light, even with his head partially protected by the hood of the robe he had thrown on, and coughed nervously. "Uh- heh heh.. it's a funny story, actually..." he began, anxiously trying to peer through the myriad of spots swimming before his eyes to gauge the enforcer's reactions.  
  
Enforcers were bad news. They were essentially the Irken special police, sworn to keep the planet free of potential problems, no matter what the cost. While the red-wearing invaders conquered new territory more or less under the Tallest Red, Tallest Purple directed the enforcers to keep the "peace" closer to the homeworld. Zim's vision slowly cleared, leaving him staring in astonishment at the two other Irkens, who were gaping in something akin to horrified awe at he and Gaz. Finally, the first enforcer dropped his weapon and practically threw himself to the floor in front of the bewildered Zim.  
  
"M-My Tallest! We humbly beg your forgiveness!" Zim stared first at the sobbing pleading figure on the floor, then at his dazed partner who was still standing in front of the door, then back again. At first, he couldn't fathom what was going on. Then he realized two things. One, he and Gaz were both much taller than the two enforcers. And two, they were wearing colored robes that he could now see had been very specifically made. His was obviously intended for the Tallest Red, and Gaz's for Purple. In light of those facts, it was a natural mistake for the two now-terrified enforcers to make.  
  
  
  
Zim grinned evilly. This would be fun.  
  
Abruptly, he shifted to full glorified obnoxious leader mode. "You DARE to challenge the ALMIGHTY TALLEST!?" he bellowed, making everyone else in the room cringe involuntarily. "No! No! We would never-!"  
  
"Silence!" Zim snarled, completely immersing himself in his new-found role and leaping onto a nearby table for dramatic effect. Behind him, Gaz began to very very slowly take deep breaths and count to ten billion before she could snap and start screaming at the drama-prone Zim to cut out his over- acting. She cleared her throat pointedly and glared at the Irken in annoyance.  
  
For his part, Zim glared back, irritated that his full-blown intimidation factor had just been substantially reduced by the interruption. With a grunt, he jumped back down to the floor. "Yes, yes..." he agreed absently with Gaz's unspoken thought. "You two! You will find we... *Tallest* transport back to base." The two enforcers stared in confusion at their suddenly merciful leaders.  
  
"Now!" Zim growled at their immobile forms. "Before we decide to send you to the venomous, saber-toothed fluffy bunnies of Lagomorphia!" He crossed his arms and fumed as the two shorter Irkens scrambled out of the building in terror. "You just can't intimidate good help these days."  
  
Gaz silently attempted to use sheer force of will to burn holes in the back of the head of the purple-suited enforcer who was driving their commandeered vehicle. She was greatly annoyed by many things in life, but she was used to being able to tune the world out in response. Now she couldn't even speak while in earshot... or whatever the people of Irk used for hearing, lest their ruse be discovered. She began grinding her teeth in frustration as the enforcer in the front passenger seat glanced warily back at her again.  
  
Quev wasn't a particularly smart Irken, but he was intelligent enough to be worried about his future health prospects. He straightened in his seat and returned his bluish gaze to the road in front of them. "The Tallest Purple is angry." he whispered softly to his partner. Snalz didn't look up as she carefully negotiated the crowded streets of Empire City with the slightly out-size Wung cruiser. It was a wide vehicle, and therefore cumbersome in the heavy traffic of Irk's capitol city. "How can you be sure?" she asked distractedly.  
  
Quev gulped slightly as he detected a noise from the carriage behind them. "I'm pretty sure that it's him that I hear growling." Snalz tsked quietly. "You know, I always told you that it would happen one day." Quev nodded almost imperceptibly in agreement. "Yeah... poor Tallest Purple has finally snapped. One too many lasers to the eye."  
  
Snalz banked the large vehicle sharply, pulling it into the private dock of Empire City's largest and most revered structure. "I'm not hanging around longer than delivering this whatever it is, I'll tell you that much." she muttered as the craft was brought to a gentle halt. "And I'd advise you to do the same."  
  
Snalz watched as Quev hastily ran towards the aft passenger compartment to open the door for the Almighty Tallest. "I wonder what the deal is? The Tallest don't usually sneak out like that..?" She shook her head suddenly, clearing it of questions that could get her into trouble. It wasn't her place to question the Tallest, no matter how odd they were acting.  
  
  
  
Gaz stalked off of the ridiculously large ship, growling and muttering to herself every step of the way. She hated this planet, she decided as she watched Zim terrify the unfortunate enforcers into unloading the box that contained Dib and GIR. He was obviously enjoying himself just a little bit too much. She mentally wished for what was easily the fiftieth time in the past fifteen minutes that she had something blunt and heavy to club him with to get him to calm down a bit.  
  
Zim WAS enjoying himself too much, and he knew it. But he'd never dreamed that it would be this easy to gain access to the Irken Empire's most secure stronghold. "You!" he shouted, "Load this crate on a carrier! And make it snappy, or I'll bring out the lasers!" He threw back his head and laughed with maniacal abandon, disregarding the looks of confusion, exasperation and fear that he was getting in return.  
  
"Attention, citizens of Irk, for an announcement from the Almighty Tallest..." a nearby public address system blared.  
  
Zim stopped laughing immediately, making a choked gasping sound. Gaz face- palmed. The announcement on the progress of Operation Impending Doom II was probably heeded with rapt attention in every other square meter of space on planet Irk, but in the nearly abandoned docking bay of the Empire Central Base, all eyes were on the two tall figures who were *not* onscreen.  
  
Zim chuckled nervously. "Pre-recorded message?" he attempted with a hesitant smile. Onscreen, Purple immediately flubbed his part of the announcement, and the two Tallest were instantly embroiled in a debate that obviously would have been cut out in editing. Especially the questioning of intelligence as compared to certain vegetables.  
  
The two enforcers reached for their weapons and moved warily away from the two strange cloaked figures. "All right... who are you?" Snalz demanded as her partner tried not to dissolve into a whimpering mass of unhelpful goo. This was a situation that had, in training, been covered only in hypothetical questions followed by gales of unbridled laughter. Consequently, neither of them had any idea what they should do.  
  
Zim and Gaz exchanged a glance first at each other and then at the public address vid screen that was still giving all of Irk front-row seats to a battle of half-wits between the two Tallest. Zim sulked for a moment. This had been the perfect cover, and now it was gone. And if they weren't careful, they would be, too.  
  
Too irritated to be thinking clearly, Zim stepped forward towards the two anxious enforcers. "So... you want to know who *I* am?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper. The enforcers backed away another step, the female edging towards the vehicle. "Alright, I'll tell you who I am," Zim agreed, flinging back the hood from his face. "I am the Irken Empire's worst nightmare!" he declared.  
  
"CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKKKKE!" GIR's voice cried in response as he burst from inside the all but forgotten box he had been sharing with Dib. The confused enforcers blinked in befuddlement. "Cake?" Quev repeated, not sure that he had heard correctly.  
  
"No, I am not cake!" Zim screamed in exasperation. "I am not ANY sort of baked good thingy! I AM ZIIIIIIIIIIIIIIM!"  
  
The thud of Enforcer Snalz falling to the floor of the hangar in a dead horror-stricken faint was all but unnoticed as her partner began running in circles around the bay screaming for help, and Zim began laughing with ridiculous abandon once again.  
  
Gaz tackled the hysterical Irken enforcer, hissing at him to be silent. Quev trembled as the odd group encircled him. 'It couldn't be! It just couldn't be Zim!' his mind pleaded as Zim and his accomplices loomed over him. 'The Zim terror was the smallest Irken of the past five generations! This monster is a giant!'  
  
Quev suddenly forgot Zim and began staring in horrified fascination at Dib. "What kind of hideous alien beast ARE YOU!?" he finally screeched, appalled by the teen's pale complexion and bizarrely pointy hair. Dib sulked. "I knew I should have brought some water balloons with me." he grumbled to himself. GIR pounced on the increasingly terrified Irken next, squealing happily. "I *LIKE* this one, Master! Can I play with his brain?" GIR mumbled a disappointed "Aw, man!" as Enforcer Quev joined his partner in the reassuring void of unconsciousness.  
  
Gaz stood up and shed her hot and uncomfortable robe. "Well, that plan totally bit, Zim." She narrowed her eyes accusingly at the former invader. "How do you plan on us getting inside now? We're freakishly *huge* compared to everyone else on the planet!" Zim crossed his arms defensively. "That's why posing as the Tallest was so ingenious! They're the biggest, most powerful beings on Irk, and NO one questions them!"  
  
Gaz snorted. "Oh right, like you planned that thing with the robes. You just got lucky, ZIM." She glared at the two unconscious enforcers as Zim proclaimed that he needed their help like he needed fifty identical GIR clones attached surgically to his body. "What are we going to do with these two?" she asked, nudging the purple-vested body closest to her with the toe of a boot. "If we just leave them here, they're bound to tell someone about us."  
  
Dib brushed at the foam packing material that was still adhered to his face and clothing in annoyance. "What did he mean 'hideous alien beast'? Hmph. I vote we shove HIM in a box with a hyperactive robot for a quarter hour, and see how HE looks when he gets out..."  
  
Zim grinned suddenly. "Yes, that's just what we'll do... Excellent thinking, Dib." Dib stared at him. "Huh? What?" He watched in confusion as Gaz and Zim began wrestling the unconscious enforcers into the remains of the box that he and GIR had only recently vacated.  
  
GIR ran up to Gaz, partially covered in the roll of adhesive tape that he was trying to show her. "Hiiiii! I found a sticky ribbon!" he informed her cheerfully. "It *likes* me! Maybe it'll like Master Zim, too!" So saying, he pressed a length of the tape against Zim's leg.  
  
Zim grinned at the robot and patted it on the head. "Good GIR. Yes, we needed the sticky ribbon." He taped up the box and scribbled 'Hold for pickup, Enforcer HQ' on the top of it in his native language. Even GIR was being helpful. Things were looking up for the mission, indeed.  
  
  
  
Purple smiled smugly to himself as he pretended to ignore Red, who was gingerly prodding the puffy swollen discoloration around his right eye. As his twin winced in discomfort, Purple smirked. One thing that he did have to give laser rifles, they were much less cumbersome to pick up and smack someone with than the average smoke machine.  
  
As he reached over to pick up his soda, he wondered idly if the day was going to continue to improve like this. First he'd realized that menace Zim was probably dead, and now he'd knocked Red out colder than frost-bitten Mallabertian Tangle-Eels on national television. Purple sighed in disappointment as he decided that no, it probably wouldn't get any better than this.  
  
Red turned to glare at the melancholy co-Tallest. "I'll get you back for this, you know! One of these days, just when you least expect it, I'm going to drop one of your precious smoke machines on you."  
  
Purple shrugged indifferently. "See if I care. I'll just put the lens in one of your lasers backwards."  
  
"If you survive!"  
  
"Oh please, you couldn't kill me RIGHT even if you tried!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You heard me."  
  
"I don't think you even know what you're talking about."  
  
"And you do?"  
  
"Of course!"  
  
"Red?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"What *are* we talking about?"  
  
Red blinked. "I have no idea. But you're still wrong!"  
  
Purple gave a disgusted grunt and crossed his arms. "Well, you *can't* be right... because you don't know it from your left."  
  
Red glowered, stuck for a comeback. A long sulkily uncomfortable silence shrouded the room as the two Tallest sat in their respectively colored comfortable chairs, facing opposite directions. Finally, Red spoke.  
  
"Hey Purple?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I'm not speaking to you."  
  
"Suits me."  
  
  
  
The two guards standing at attention outside of the doors exchanged exasperated looks and sighed. "Some days, I really hate this job," one whispered. His companion nodded silently. "Everyone thinks this job is SO glamorous. Huh. I shoulda gone into the enforcers. Now *that* is my kind of job." the first guard continued.  
  
The second guard agreed. "Yeah, no standing around at attention all day staring at the walls and listening to the Tallest arguing. Just cruising around and looking for people to harass."  
  
The first guard yawned. "Yessir, what I wouldn't give to be an enforcer."  
  
"I HATE being an enforcer!" Enforcer Snalz screamed as she struggled to force her way through the tape-reinforced side of the bedraggled box sitting abandoned in the private docking bay some three dozen floors below the daydreaming guards.  
  
"Hurry, Snalz!" her partner insisted as he tried to push her out of the suffocating foam-packed prison. "You're... nnnghhh... almost out!"  
  
"I'm almost out of my mind, you mean," she agreed as she tried to peel an uncooperative section of tape away from where it was obstructing her way out. "I've had it with this stupid job! I've had it with the smarmy SIRS, I've had it with the guards who always taunt us about being washouts with easy jobs, I've had it with psychotic Invaders, and I've had it with you!"  
  
Quev whimpered. "Me? What did I do?" he objected as his large blue pupiless eyes welled up with tears.  
  
"Exactly what you always do," Snalz informed him. "Nothing! You're less helpful than an electric pencil!"  
  
The disgruntled enforcer twisted her body around enough to allow her to squeeze an arm out through the small opening, along with her head. She winced as her sensitive antennae were forced against the edge of her escape route, causing a distinctly uncomfortable sensation. Gritting her teeth, she struggled to push herself the rest of the way through. After a full minute of grunting and straining accompanied by her partner's whimpering, she admitted the obvious.  
  
"Quev, I'm stuck."  
  
Quev whined. "What can I do? I can't even see in here!" He sniffled quietly. "Besides, I'd probably just make you stuck worse."  
  
Snalz used her free hand to tap in rhythmic annoyance on the tape-clad side of the box. Why did she have to have such a simpering, pathetic and over- sensitive excuse for a partner? "Come on, Quev. Give me a hand, here." Finally, she discerned movement in the cramped quarters of the box she was stuck in the side of.  
  
"Quev, you've got to get me out of here," Snalz's suddenly quiet voice mumbled. "And I mean soon." From inside of the box, she heard Quev reply. "W-Why? We can't stop... Zim." Snalz felt her face pale in embarrassment considerably as she responded. "Well, uh... that's not really what's worrying me right now. I've... er... gotta go."  
  
  
  
"I'll try to push you out, Snalz." Quev's muffled voice called. Snalz prepared to push against the uncooperative box with her free hand as her partner, reassured by the common, unextraordinary nature that this particular emergency had taken, began once more to try and shove her through the small hole.  
  
"You know Quev," Snalz mused as she finally got her shoulder and remaining forearm through the damnable enclosure, "At times like this, I wish that *I'd* gotten a nice cushy job as an invader."  
  
"Don't mention invaders to me!" Quev nervously squeaked.  
  
  
  
-----------  
  
What is a tangle-eel, you ask? Something that is very squirmy, unpleasant and cold. Like it or not, you're gonna see more of Snalz and Quev. Hopefully you'll like it. And Dib's going to have a few good scenes coming up in the later chapters, Kami and Deagon, so I hope you stick around to see him as he- oh, that would be telling! He'll get tormented just a lil' bit more, though. Just a bit.  
  
Next time: GIR does something distracting, Zim goes solo, and Dib is subjected to another minor indignity and has a brief run-in with an enforcer. 


	6. Invader GIR and the Mecha of DOOM!

A/Note: No Tallest in this chapter, sorry folks. Lol, they'll be back, though! A lotta GIR in this one, so maybe that'll make up for it. Whoops, forgot to thank Invader Zim and me Together last time! Hopefully I'll be forgiven, though? And as always, thank you for your kind comments to Kat23a and PRHG! Lol, keep Hermes on a leash, Sanely Challenged! I'll get around to posting all of this 'un!  
  
Disclaimer: Since I haven't done this in five chapters, just thought I'd remind you that all the Zim I own is two GIR plushies, two t-shirts, and a couple of enforcers that I made up. And maybe a couple of pieces of fanart. Eh-heh…  
  
Chapter Six: Invader GIR and the Mecha of DOOM  
  
GIR stared up at his master with his wide, cluelessly cyan eyes. "What am I supposed to do, again?" Zim's face twitched violently. "Go over to the guards, and do something to distract them! We haven't got much time before someone spots us, GIR!" The frustrated ex-invader repeated for the millionth time.  
  
"Oh yeeeeeaaaaaaaaaah!" GIR recalled, grinning broadly. He trotted off in the direction of the guards who were standing watch at the exit of the catacomb-like multilevel hangar bay. Suddenly, the small robot stopped and turned back towards his friends. "What do I do?"  
  
Gaz and Dib leapt on Zim and frantically tried to muffle his screams of exasperation. "Shut UP, Zim!" Gaz hissed violently as Dib fought to keep a hold of the Irkens' flailing arms. "If you blow our cover, we're dead!"  
  
GIR stared at his master and friends in bewilderment, then glanced back over his shoulder at the guards. "I'm gonna go see what the funny guard-men are doing, 'kay?" he called to the group, which immediately ceased struggling and stared at him in shocked disbelief as he skipped obliviously over to where the guards were standing... er... guard.  
  
GIR stared up at the two figures, taking in every bit of information that his processors deemed important. They were taller than he, but not by a huge margin, both carrying fearsome-looking laser rifles that some distant fragment of his memory informed him were standard-issue, and one of them had a large food stain on his black and magenta uniform that looked, to GIR's eyes, like a wombat.  
  
Maybe one of them would play with him! GIR frowned thoughtfully for a moment. Neither of them looked like they could play as well as Pig, but since Pig wasn't here at the moment, he supposed that he would have to make due.  
  
"What's he *doing*?" Dib demanded as he, Zim, and Gaz tried to gawk around the corner as unobtrusively as possible. "He's just standing there!" Dib continued to complain as the three watched the immobile android.  
  
Zim crossed his antennae, an old Irken luck-courting custom. "Don't screw up, don't screw up..." he chanted softly over and over again.  
  
Gaz glared silently at the two males and peeked around the corner of the hall, where GIR was staring at the guards, who had only just noticed his presence.  
  
GIR's eyes shifted to red suddenly. "I require your assistance!" the short robot barked harshly. The guards immediately looked incredulously at each other, unaccustomed to being ordered about by a mere robot servant.  
  
"Uh, whaddaya need?"  
  
GIR's countenance immediately shifted back to abnormal as he began running in circles around the confused guards, screaming the whole way. "The air is chasing me! THE AIR IS CHASING ME! I'M RUNNING, I'M RUNNING! I'M RUNNING BECAUSE THE AIR IS CHASING ME!"  
  
The two stupefied guards stared. They froze in place and gaped in confused horror as the apparently berserk SIR ran out of control around them screaming about being slowly dissolved through oxidization that was eating him alive like a horde of rabid peanuts. Thoroughly frightened by the psychotic robot's episode, they hastened to vacate their post at the first opportunity, which occurred when GIR tripped over a loose bolt that had fallen out of his head and fell.  
  
Dib blinked after the fleeing figures in disbelief. "What sort of pathetic wimps are they?" he wondered aloud, just before GIR leapt onto his face with a cheer of "Head candy!" As her brother stumbled, screaming something about death-cheesing lunatic robots, Gaz turned to face Zim. "Can we really expect it to be this easy?" she asked cautiously.  
  
Zim sighed. "Probably not. But we have the one weapon that Irk has no defense against, an unstoppable force that will make US an unstoppably forcible force of mighty... might!"  
  
Gaz crossed her arms. "Aren't you over-selling GIR?"  
  
Zim narrowed his crimson eyes at her. "What's your point?"  
  
The purple-haired girl pointed at something very large that was occupying a goodly section of the central hangar, a large grin forming on her face. "I had something a little more... formidable in mind. You know, just in case."  
  
Zim stared up at the indicated device and chortled evilly. "Indeed!" he agreed.  
  
--------------  
  
Dib watched, unimpressed, as Gaz and Zim struggled to try and open the boarding hatch of the huge mecha that she'd become so enamored of. Finally, Zim stood back with a sigh of defeat. "This is taking forever. We don't have time for this."  
  
Gaz shot him a challenging sneer. "Well I'm not giving up so easily. If you're so damn impatient, then just go on."  
  
Zim and Gaz locked glares for a full minute. A few feet below them, Dib and GIR watched intently, munching popcorn that had suddenly started springing out of the robot's head cavity a few minutes earlier. As they watched the battle of opposing wills, Dib suddenly turned to his companion.  
  
"Who do you think'll win?" he asked, genuinely uncertain of the outcome himself.  
  
"Master Zim!"  
  
"Really? What makes you so sure?"  
  
GIR's eyes suddenly flashed to red as he responded "Because the will of the mighty Zim is absolute and will not be questioned!"  
  
Dib gulped quietly and stepped back, startled by the robot's mood swing. GIR's eyes resumed their normal innocent blue glow abruptly.  
  
"Popcorn! YAAAAAY!" he cried before commencing to shove an armful of the stuff into his mouth. Dib warily edged closer and helped himself to the fluffy stuff that was still rising from inside of the small robot's head.  
  
"Uh... GIR?"  
  
"Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees?"  
  
"What's the flavoring on this stuff?"  
  
"It's powdered water with synthetic styrofoam pants!"  
  
"Uh... right."  
  
Above them, Zim growled angrily and broke off his staring contest with Gaz. "Fine then, pitiful huuuuuuuuuman! Waste your time trying to gain access to a device that you have no possible way of running on your own! Get yourself captured! I have no need for you stink beasts! Zim needs no one! Nooooooo ooooonnnneeee!" Zim jumped down from the platform where he had been standing. "Come, GIR! We will-"  
  
"I thought you didn't need anyone, Zim?" Gaz called in a smug tone. The Irken made a low snarling sound as he turned back to face the two humans. "Very well then! GIR! STAY!" The SIR unit skidded to a halt in mid-stride, staring up at his master in obvious confusion and disappointment. "Aw man..."  
  
Dib coughed softly. "Uh Gaz? As much as I hate to say it, we should really all stick together. I mean, Zim's the only one of us who's been here and knows how things work and where we should go and..." He fell silent as both his scary sister and long-time rival gave him simultaneous death glares.  
  
Zim turned grandly to head out the door to the hangar bay. "Your worm- sibling is correct, you know Gaz. You two NEEEEEED me! You'll never survive without my superior guidance!" Feeling exceptionally cocky, Zim strode purposefully towards the door. Any second now, the two pathetic humans would come running after him, begging him not to abandon them on his hostile and unfamiliar planet.  
  
  
  
He remained certain of this fact as he swaggered out of the hangar, through the large double doors, and even as he traveled down the long corridors of the Imperial Government complex. It was only as he decided that he should choose a less conspicuous path and crawled through a small hole in the back wall of a disused cleaning closet and began his lonely way through the huge gaping empty secret, and not to mention DARK passageways that led towards the chamber of the Almighty Tallest that it occurred to him that he might, in fact, be all alone.  
  
But that was alright, he insisted to himself. It was perfectly fine. He didn't need those humans or that useless robot. He was Zim, after all. This would be his battle and his alone.  
  
All alone.  
  
As he brushed aside an insect's sticky web that had partially caught on one of his sensitive antennae, he found himself thinking that he was fortunate to be such a self-sufficient, courageous and stalwart Irken who was not, repeat NOT in the slightest afraid of the dark. He stepped in a puddle of something gooey and smelly that squooshed funny when he put his weight on it, and froze.  
  
"Oh sweet Irk... what was thaaaaat?" Zim felt his antennae twitching and his skin crawling as he fought the urge to run screaming back the way he had come at the thought of what sorts of huge ravenous killer germs could now be creeping all over his boots and up his legs.  
  
Yes, it was fortunate indeed that he was a solo operator with no need for the help of his worthless companions. Zim suddenly felt something scurry past his arm along the wall beside him.  
  
As he ran down the passageways at the greatest speed he could manage in the dark, smelly hell on Irk, he reflected that it was not only a good thing that he was a brave and independent Irken soldier, it was also good that no one was around to see him fleeing for his life like a scared human.  
  
"He's not coming back, Gaz." Dib decided for the third time. "We're all alone... alone on a hostile alien planet." Dib raised a fist towards the ceiling as he screamed his misfortune "Why the heck didn't I bring a camera with me!?" he wailed, falling to his knees in anguish.  
  
Gaz sighed in frustration. "You know Dib, that's really starting to bug me." she grumbled as she leaned against the stubborn hatchway that had so far resisted all of her efforts to open it, no matter how she pulled, tugged, or cursed at it.  
  
"But Gaz, what are we going to do?" Dib asked, unintentionally letting his voice drop into a slightly whiny pitch as he mulled over their uncomfortable situation. "If we just stay here, we're bound to be caught. If we go out there, we're bound to be caught."  
  
"And if you keep bugging me, I'm going to remove your head and use it to bang on this stupid hatch." Gaz mumbled as she began to kick at the uncooperative thing angrily. With a sudden echoing "KLANK!" the entrance unlatched and fell open before her. "Yes!" she grinned, stepping up to the gaping portal and peering inside. "This is going to be awesome. You coming, Dib?" she asked, almost as an afterthought.  
  
Dib stared up at his sister, mulling his options over. "If I stay here, eventually I'll be captured. If I go looking for Zim, I'll probably be captured sooner. And if I go with you in that... thing, I'll most likely be shot at, blown up, or something even more unpleasant..."  
  
"WELL!?" An impatient Gaz demanded.  
  
"I'm thinking, I'm thinking!" her brother shouted defensively. "I don't want to get killed, you know! Now where was I?" Dib began to count off the pros and cons of each of his choices, going into excruciating detail of best and worst possible outcomes.  
  
GIR stared back and forth between the two humans for a moment before firing up his jets and floating up to Gaz. "I get shotgun!" he cried gleefully as she closed the hatch behind them.  
  
A muffled bang issued forth from inside of the mecha, followed by Gaz's mildly annoyed voice lecturing the small robot.  
  
"GIR, where did you get that?"  
  
"Internet!"  
  
"Ah. Well put it away and help me find the controls for this thing."  
  
Below, Dib had finally come to a decision. "So I should go with you, Gaz! Because that way, I can at least... huh? Gaz?" Dib frantically looked around for any sign of his sister or the maniacal robot that had been accompanying them. They were nowhere in sight, and the gigantic machine was still looming over him. "Gaz?"  
  
A low rumbling sound began to emanate from inside of the huge mech. Terrified, Dib backed away from the device as it rose up into a ready position and then blasted through the roof of the hangar with a suddenness that gave the distinct impression that it hadn't been an intentional take off. The stunned teenager stepped forward to watch the machine crashing through the hangar roof.  
  
"Uh... right... so you guys... just go right ahead... I'll just be... your... backup or something..." Dib let the sentence trail off, realizing the pointlessness of continuing the thought. "What am I supposed to do here alone?" he mumbled to himself softly. "And why can't I stop talking to myself?"  
  
As he pondered this, he was suddenly run down by a green and purple blur, which rushed past him through a door marked 'lavatory' on the nearby wall.  
  
"I hate my life." Dib sighed as he began groping around for his glasses.  
  
  
  
Next time: Dib becomes a mysterious specter of fear, Zim continues to be horrified by this secret tunnels and unleashes a crossover reference, and Enforcer Snalz begins to search for her partner! (Geez, that's what she gets for spending so much time in the bathroom…) 


	7. Dib, Dark Specter of FEAR!

Wow, two updates in 24 hours? How's that for amazing? Thank-ya's to all the reviewers! Purplepincushion, get some sleep you goof! PRHG, Kami and Daegon; I think you'll like this chapter! Invader Zim and me Together, Invader Rhea; I'm delighted that you think that the story fills out so well! Now I'm thanking Rhea for thanking me… for thanking her… my head's starting to ping, lol! As always, thank you to Kat23a! We can probably assume that GIR had quite a bit of additional junk food stored away, plus Zim's replication devices were probably in evidence there somewhere to help handle the food needs. And Ivory gets a piece of cake and a crossover reference recognition point for noticing the FOP joke back there, heh!  
  
As promised, some good stuff for Dib at last! And another reference! And the Tallest! Isn't that enough for you? Purple: Huh? HUH…!?  
  
  
  
Chapter Seven: Dib, Dark Specter of FEAR!  
  
  
  
"Wait, Snalz! Don't leave me all alone back here!" Quev nervously cried as he pursued his partner through the hangar, frantically shaking one foot as he ran in an attempt to dislodge part of the remains of the cardboard box that they had recently vacated, which had adhered to his leg with some tape. His terror multiplied profoundly as he heard an incredible noise from up ahead. Quev skidded to a halt as he neared the large doors of the hangar and noticed the huge empty space where a mammoth inert mechanical Resistance-Crusher 2000 had once stood, and the broken remains of what had formerly been the roof over it. "Ooooh Tallest, this isn't good, this is really completely not good at all..."  
  
So astounded was he by the sight, he didn't notice the figure on its hands and knees in the floor in front of him until he heard a soft "crunch" followed by an in-irken scream of anger and pain.  
  
"Watch it, you idiot!" Dib cried as he yanked his injured hand out from beneath the startled enforcer's boot, causing Quev to stagger, then fall. Wincing in pain, Dib stood up and began to quietly mutter a few choice words about Zim, his home planet, and the entire race of which he was a member. It took the teen a few moments to realize that he had an audience for his tirade.  
  
Quev shook fearfully as the impossibly frightening, incredibly pale creature stood up… and up… and up to a frighteningly tall height and loomed over him threateningly, exuding a scent that for some reason reminded him of a plate of nachos. "S-S- SNALZ!" He shrieked as Dib fixed him with a distinctly displeased glare.  
  
"You guys are making all of this a lot more difficult than it had to be." Dib grumbled, nursing his pained appendage. He paused, slightly perplexed, as the Irken cowered before him. Suddenly, he realized what was happening. HE was the terrifying alien menace here. He fought the small grin that was insistently pulling at the corners of his mouth.  
  
This could make up for the wretched day he'd been having so far.  
  
Assuming his most intimidating sneer, Dib leaned over the hapless enforcer. "You!" he declared dramatically. "Oh no, not me.." squeaked his audience, attempting to back away from the menacing figure of a basement-dwelling human teenager. "Yes, YOU!" Dib insisted, reaching out to grab the frightened irken's shirt before he could turn and bolt in the opposite direction. "You're going to do as I say or else! Or... or else I'll hunt you down, no matter where you try and hide, and take your brain and use it for chewing gum!"  
  
The enforcer stared at him uncomprehendingly.  
  
"And then I'll lay eggs in your stomach!" Dib muttered, a slightly exasperated tone creeping into his voice. This was what he got for trying to come up with an original threat, he supposed. What sort of weirdo planet was this that they didn't have gum? And according to Zim, no tuna or cupcakes either, he recalled suddenly.  
  
"Alright! I'll do it!" his horrified victim wailed, falling to his knees in front of Dib subserviently. "Just don't hurt me!"  
  
Dib shook his head. So this was the fearsome irken race? It was practically a planet full of first graders. "Okay, let's go." he sighed. "Er, go where?" Quev asked hesitantly. Dib glanced back and forth between the shattered ceiling and the large double doors that he'd seen Zim exit through earlier.  
  
Since there was no way in hell he stood a chance of catching up with Gaz, he resolved that he should try for Zim instead. "At the risk of sounding cliche, take me to your leaders." Dib responded finally, pointing towards the beckoning doorway.  
  
Quev anxiously hurried to keep up with the long stride of his captor. He didn't want to anger the huge alien by appearing to loiter around. "The Tallest aren't going to like this..." he whimpered softly, tugging anxiously at his short black gloves. He glanced back over his shoulder one last time before following Dib quickly through the large doors. "Where's Snalz when I need her?"  
  
A few minutes later, a considerably relieved Enforcer Snalz emerged from the scene of her urgent mission. "Hey Quev, I'm- Quev?" Snalz looked around, taking in the damage to the area that she had understandably missed noticing before. "Holy sweet wivels in smouldering jelly sauce... QUEV?! Quev where are you, you idiot?!" she cried, running to check for him beneath various piles of rubble.  
  
Her partner and friend was no where to be found, the hangar was well on its way to being completely destroyed, and she knew that she'd never forgive herself if that idiot Quev had managed to get himself in trouble with whatever - and she suspected she might just know what- had caused the incredible damage. She squeezed her large magenta eyes closed in an attempt to block out a vision of Quev being tortured by those monstrous... thingys from before. And that huge thing calling himself Zim. The name brought back memories of entrance exam data files. Zim the Destroyer.... From the looks of things, there might just be something to that claim, after all.  
  
Snalz straightened. This was no time to be petrified with unspeakable terror. She had to get herself prepared to defend herself and the Empire. She had to inform her superiors. She had to find her damned partner before he got himself killed. And then she'd kill him herself for wandering off with huge mutant alien monsters. Adjusting her uniform, Snalz ran for the emergency communicator unit across the bay, not noticing the length of tissue that was stuck to her left boot.  
  
-----------------  
  
Zim lay panting in the floor just outside of the secret panel in the wall that he had accidentally run straight through. "Sweet delicious aiiiiir..." he sighed, closing his eyes in ecstacy and inhaling deeply. He slowly opened his deep red eyes again and smiled. "And light! Glorious radiant light! Truly, I shall never take you for granted again!" he swore softly as he delighted in his release from the foul, dank and incredibly dark prison that he'd stumbled around in for the past fifteen minutes.  
  
Finally he sat up and began taking stock of himself. He was slightly winded, his clothing was a bit wet and smelled decidedly peculiar, but so far no one knew of his arrival. Amazing considering all the screaming that he refused to acknowledge that he'd been doing as he ran desperately through the hidden corridors looking for an exit.  
  
Zim stood, brushing distastefully at the smelly gunk that was adhering to his person in a most unpleasant and stubborn manner. Just as he was about to begin screaming about his mighty need for a huge roll of paper towels, his antennae twitched. Zim turned to regard the dark recesses of the still- gaping doorway to the ungracious beyond from which he had escaped.  
  
He backed away a step.  
  
There was no denying it, he'd definitely heard something moving in there. Something that sounded big. Big and damp and hungry. As he anxiously watched, he saw a bizarrely-proportioned, mal-formed creature slide towards him slowly. Slowly, but very purposefully.  
  
Throwing dignity, caution, and years of training to the winds, Zim decided that discretion was the better part of survival and ran shrieking at the top of his lungs from the horrible monstrosity that he'd inadvertently loosed. So terror-struck was he that he darted part a pair of guards faster than they could fully register his presence.  
  
"What on Irk was that?"  
  
"Strong breeze?"  
  
Farther conversation was halted as they caught sight of the slower-moving creature that was progressing down the corridor.  
  
Snalz kicked the communication equipment in frustration. "I said Quev is missing! MISS-ING! You know, as in gone! No longer in the vicinity! Whereabouts unknown!" The bored, unconcerned voice of the Enforcer's operator sighed.  
  
"Where was the last place you saw him?"  
  
'Finally,' she thought to herself, 'I'm finally getting somewhere.' Aloud she responded "In the main hangar bay, near the.." She was cut off by the monotone drone of the operator's voice. "Have you looked there for him?"  
  
"I AM THERE!" Snalz screamed at the top of her lungs at the blank face on the screen before her.  
  
"And?"  
  
Snalz blinked. "And?" The operator yawned as if to demonstrate how thick she was. "And is he there?" Snalz put her boot through the screen and gave an unbridled, inarticulate cry of tooth-grinding rage.  
  
Five or so floors up, Dib suddenly paused. "Did I just hear a scream of wordless frustration and hate?" he asked. Quev shivered slightly and wished he had the opportunity and the nerve to make a break for it and get away from this spooky, pushy alien monster with the eerie lensed eyes. "I-I dunno.." he whimpered as he continued guiding Dib down the oddly deserted main corridor.  
  
Shrugging the thought aside, Dib stared around him incredulously. "Shouldn't this place be more secure?" he demanded. "I mean, we haven't seen anyone this whole way." Behind his glasses, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You're not leading me into a trap or something, are you?!"  
  
Quev stammered nervously. "N-n-no! I wouldn't!" Dib gazed at his guide skeptically. "Oh *wouldn't* you?" Quev shook his head frantically. "No! I-I wouldn't! Y-you'd *do* stuff to me!"  
  
Satisfied for the moment, Dib looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. "See who it is and find out what's going on!" he urged the hesitant enforcer as he stepped back out of sight around a corner. "But I'm warning you, one wrong move or word, and you'll never know the meaning of the word "peace" again!" As the trembling Irken moved to intercept his fellow coming down the hallway, Dib reflected that he had learned a lot from his little sister.  
  
"H-hey what's going on? Where is everyone?" Quev asked as the running elite guard skidded to a halt in front of him. "Why haven't you evacuated yet? Haven't you heard? They're here!"  
  
"W-who's here?" Quev asked in a tone that heavily implied he thought he really didn't want to know.  
  
"THE HOWLER LEECHES, YOU FOOL!" The guard cried, turning and beginning to run again. "They're loose in the building! Everyone's gotta get out now before it's too late!"  
  
The guard turned the corner and rebounded off of a looming figure with what looked like huge dark wings, or possibly a cape pluming out behind it, and eerie eyes that seemed to glow with reflected light. "Boo." Dib muttered dully, sending the now hysterical guard running in the opposite direction. Dib sighed and rejoined the dumbfounded Quev. "I can't REALLY be that scary, can I?" he asked himself aloud as he stared at his reflection in the polished floor.  
  
His eyes shifted slightly to the reflection of his companion, who appeared to be gazing thoughtfully at him. Shaking off his self-pity, Dib recalled the guard's words. "What are howler leeches?"  
  
Quev shivered slightly and looked back in the direction that the guard had vanished in before answering. "T-they're supposed to be mythical monsters." Dib's head snapped to attention immediately. "Mythical?" Quev nodded. "They're supposed to be really horrible creatures that swallow you whole and then digest you really slowly. They like cold, damp places and the dark, and it's rumored that they can plunge a planet into perpetual winter!"  
  
"You sure know a lot about them." Dib murmured appreciatively. "W-well it's sort of a hobby of mine." Quev admitted. Dib laughed. "Well good thing, then. You're bound to know how to stop them if we run into any!" So saying, he grabbed Quev's arm and pulled him along as they progressed towards their goal. "Oh, Snalz was right... I should have taken up stamp collecting instead!" Quev sighed dejectedly as he let himself be dragged off to what would probably be a hideous slow death by digestion.  
  
---------  
  
Purple pulled insistently on Red's sleeve as he stared at their evacuation ship. "Come on, you can't be serious. Howler leeches? Has anyone checked that report out or are we just arbitrarily evacuating the building?" "Hey, do you want to be digested?" Red demanded. "Er... not really..." Purple admitted, pulling at his collar nervously. "Then shut up and-"  
  
The emergency escape cruiser that had been waiting for the Tallest to board was suddenly smashed through the balcony wall. As dust and debris filled the air, Purple groaned. "I knew that the day *couldn't* get better. Wouldn't you know I'd be right?" Red knocked him in the head. "Oh, you *always* have to be right, don't you?" he growled sourly.  
  
  
  
So, has anyone guessed Dib's referenced identity yet?  
  
Next time: The Howler Leeches are coming! The Tallest begin another insult debate, and part of the crew is reunited. Plus more Snalz and Quev! *crickets chirp* Yeah, spatter me with your enthusiasm all at once, why don't ya? 


	8. Gaz

A/Note: I am in mourning for my boots. *sigh* Okay, on with the story, but first:  
  
Yeppers, Ivory guessed right. Heh, Dib's calling himself 'Agent Mothman' sort of inspired me to try and depict him as a horrible dark scary monster to the irkens, in the style of his Swollen Eyeball moniker. Even if he's still got bits of processed cheese stuck in his hair! Poor Dib, lol. Don't feel too bad if you didn't get it last chapter, it was a little obscure. Thanks again to Kat23a, Kami and Daegon, Purple's Right Hand Girl, and Sanely Challenged for reading and reviewing. Sorry you think the story's dragging, Sanely.. You shoulda been there for the two month hiatus while I went to Washington on vacation last summer.. Now that was a dragging story line. My Zim fic disk has been in the White House!  
  
If you're waiting for a big Zim fight scene… well … er…  
  
Chapter Eight: Gaz  
  
Red numbly glanced back and forth between the shattered remains of the Tallest's former escape vehicle and the huge metallic shape that was wedged in the wall through what had been their balcony. Finally deciding to try looking in another direction, he turned his pinkish gaze down to where Purple was sulking in the floor despondantly.  
  
"Do you think we should do something?" Red asked hesitantly. Purple rubbed at his aching head gingerly. "Why are you asking me? I thought YOU were the one who had all the answers, and I was just the pretender who got in your way?" Red growled dangerously. "Oh, you've always thought that you were SO smart!" he fumed, leaning over his co-ruler. "Well someone in our position had to be!" Purple shot back, shoving Red away and rising to his feet again.  
  
"Sarcastic twit!"  
  
"Reckless idiot!"  
  
"SIR polisher!"  
  
"Oh, now you've gone too far!"  
  
Gaz finally managed to force the jammed hatch to her hijacked mech unit open. "I think your landings may be improving, GIR." she commented dryly as she kicked the door the rest of the way ajar. GIR happily nodded, then went back to playing with the directional control wheel that he still held in his small metal hands. "Bbrrrrrroooo... vrrrrroooom... Beeeep! Low clearance! This is a blue light special, K-Mart shoppers!" he cried as he twisted the controls back and forth.  
  
Smiling slightly to herself, Gaz turned her attention to the scene outside. She blinked. Two large irkens were rolling around on the floor, apparently engaged in a vicious fist fight. She crossed her arms and stared out at the display in confusion. The two of them hadn't even noticed that she and GIR were practically standing right in front of them. She shook her head wonderingly and leaned back against the surface of the mech. She was curious to see who would win this bout. It was the best entertainment she'd come across since letting GIR drive.  
  
  
  
  
  
An hour later, Gaz yawned. The Tallest were still breathlessly screeching insults at each other and lobbing empty drink containers and couch cushions back and forth. She glanced down and noticed for the first time that GIR was no longer sitting beside her stacking bits of rock into miniature cities to rampage through. She looked up just in time to see the large double doors to the chamber being pried open by the little robot. Forgetting the arguing Irken leaders for the moment, Gaz carefully picked her way down to the ground in her awkward boots and jogged over towards him.  
  
GIR's face swiveled towards her as she approached, and she was startled to see that his large eyes were glowing a determined, obedient red. "GIR? What're you doing? What's going on?" she asked, a bit taken aback by his unexpected behavior. "Master is coming." He answered bluntly, and returned his gaze to the hallway beyond the doorway.  
  
Gaz frowned slightly. GIR's cold demeanor abruptly evaporated as he threw wide the doors with a delighted cheer of "Master's HERE!" just before Zim himself came hurtling through them. Zim skidded to a halt, scrambled backwards and shoved the doors shut, collapsing against them. As he stood gasping for breath, he didn't seem to register the presence of anyone else in the room. GIR leapt into the air and landed on his master's shoulders, happily exclaiming over their reunion.  
  
Zim gave a blood-curdling scream and all eyes were on the disheveled former invader as he fell to the floor, completely exhausted physically and emotionally. GIR sat on Zim's frantically heaving chest and stared at him in puzzlement. He made a slight face and looked up at Gaz. "Master smeeeeeeeeeeells." he informed her. "I know." she replied, pinching her nose closed with two fingers.  
  
Behind her, Red and Purple stared in shock. "Wha... who the...?" Purple gaped. "The... wha.. Huh?" Red responded intelligently. The two Irken leaders were completely perplexed as they looked on at the group of strangers.  
  
Purple scratched his head in bafflement. There was something familiar here... Abruptly his eyes locked on the small robot that was hopping up and down on the unfamiliar irken on the floor in a remarkable display of stupidity. A fragment of memory drifted through his head.  
  
"Is it supposed to be stupid?"  
  
Purple grabbed his co-ruler's shoulder. "It's Zim's robot!" he whispered. Red shook his head. "That's not possible." Purple nodded emphatically. "Has your attention span dwindled to nil? The Great Assigning for OED 2! Zim! We… *built* that thing, and I'm telling you that IS Zim's robot!" Red scoffed at the statement. "But the only way that Zim's SIR unit could be here is if it came with... him...."  
  
Two pairs of now huge (even by irken standards) eyes panned slowly back to the prostate former invader.  
  
------------  
  
Gaz glared openly as the two tall Irkens cautiously approached Zim and GIR. They slowly edged a step at a time to the fallen former Invader as if they feared he might explode. She frowned. These were the "Almighty Tallest" that Zim had ranted and raved about the whole way here?  
  
They looked like morons.  
  
Red picked up a mangled thin metal pole and prodded the figure with it hesitantly. "It can't be... it just *can't*!" he insisted. Purple shivered slightly. It was as if some sort of devious nightmare world of their own unconscious creation had stealthily crept up behind them and overwhelmed them before they were even aware of its existence. He fought the urge to break down in screaming hysteria as his mind insistently jabbered at him that it WAS Zim. He was back, he was strangely tall, and he smelled like he'd slogged through five miles of untreated sewage.  
  
GIR's head snapped up as he took notice of the looming figure poking his master with a pole. His eyes narrowed as he examined the strangely familiar seeming irken. Just as he was about to go into "obedient" mode, however, he glanced to the side and saw the other, purple-clad individual.  
  
"DADDY!" squealed the robot. "AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHH!" screamed Purple as the insane SIR unit leapt upward and fastened itself to his face. Red blinked in surprise for a moment, then turned around and began using his pole to try and pry the SIR loose from his companion's skull.  
  
Above and behind the bedlam, Gaz's small hands closed into fists as she tried to shut out the noise. "This is just perfect..." she muttered to herself. "How much stupider can this trip get?"  
  
  
  
Quev trailed along beside Dib as the tall, spooky teen continued to ramble, seemingly without ever intending to stop, about the huge, scary things that he insisted roamed his home world. The terrified enforcer whimpered softly as Dib's lecture veered off onto the more disgusting details of the vicious chupacabra's hunting habits. This was, without a doubt, the worst thing that could ever happen to him. 'At least', he thought to himself 'things can't get any worse.'  
  
Dib stopped lecturing abruptly to ask "Did you hear something?" just before a horrific smelling dark shape loomed up behind them.  
  
  
  
Snalz ran frantically past a few last stragglers of the evacuating guard as she headed for the upper levels of the building. She kicked aside a small barrier that wouldn't have stopped a creeper-bug (a million-limbed native insect) reduced to two working legs, and dodged under some tape that proclaimed the site restricted because of leech infestation and faulty plumbing. She just had to find Quev before he got himself eaten or something equally unpleasant. Like being assigned to the plumbing crew for the inevitable cleanup.  
  
Finally spying the large elaborate doors leading to the Tallests' official chambers, she forced herself to stumble onward. Chances were, in her absence, Quev would go to the safest place he could think of. And the elevated office of the great leaders of Irk had to be the most secure place on the planet, indeed, in the entire Empire.  
  
At least, so she thought until she managed to push one of the doors just a little bit open and squeeze herself through the gap. The Tallest were engaged in some sort of panicked attempt at suppressing the hyperactively malfunctioning SIR unit she recalled from the incident in the hangar; the impossibly tall and now incredibly foul-smelling Zim-creature was groggily leaning against one of the huge doors beside her, apparently trying to get his bearings in the ruckus. One of the strange creatures who had accompanied him suddenly became visible stalking towards the Tallest.  
  
"EVERYBODY SHUT THE HELL UP!" Gaz screamed as she finally lost her temper. All activity in the room abruptly ceased. Zim squinted at her funny. The baffled Irkens could only stare as she strode up to the baffled Tallest and effortlessly plucked GIR off of Purple's scalp. She glared at each of them in turn, giving a slightly surprised frown at the unexpected sight of Enforcer Snalz.  
  
"These are the 'Tallest'?" she growled in the general direction of the two color-coded irkens.  
  
"Er, yes.. I mean uh... YES! They are the-" Zim began.  
  
"Yeah, whatever. So what are you gonna do to them again?" Gaz interrupted. Zim paced back and forth a little.  
  
"I have no idea." he finally confessed.  
  
"Why are we here then?!" Gaz asked, sounding as if she was either going to tear out someone's throat or burst into frustrated tears.  
  
"Well like what? Dib locked all my big dooming weapons in the car. I'm leaning toward finding a really big mallet right now, actually…"  
  
"Ew, gross. Too messy."  
  
"Torture them? Find Dib and he can sing that 'Okle-homey' song he did in the play last year."  
  
"That's disturbing, Zim. Very cruel and unusual punishment."  
  
"Well, what do you suggest!?"  
  
"I'm thinking! I'm thinking! We could annoy them to no end, making their lives a living nightmare world."  
  
"That's amateur hour, Gaz-human."  
  
"Well you're the one who's all hot to get here and get your bloody vengeance or whatever and then CHOKES when he finally gets his chance!"  
  
Red glared at Purple and Snalz. "Well, one of you wanna suggest a way of getting rid of them before they think of a way to get rid of us?"  
  
"Drown them in nacho cheese?" Purple offered, massaging the bruised area on his head where GIR had previously been attached.  
  
"Not bad, but I was thinking of something more excrutiating."  
  
"How about boiling nacho cheese?"  
  
  
  
So will Dib and Quev get digested? Will Zim recover sufficiently from nearly an hour straight of non-stop screaming and running to come up with a good plan to attack the Tallest? Will the Tallest get him first? And what about GIR? And will Gaz ever be reunited with her GameSlave? Will any of the readers still care enough to find out?  
  
Next time: Dib busts into the scene, and beware of his… might? A fight commences, and GIR makes a startling discovery that could conceivably destroy the entire Irken Empire! It'll be the shock of Red and Purple's lives, that's for sure. *hesitantly looks to see if anyone's still reading* 


	9. Attack of the Dib

A/Note: Wow, 59 reviews already!? I'm astonished. Sorry this chapter's so short, but I like the ending of it. So here comes the other concept of mine… right at the end. Thanks again to you reviewers! Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say that Zim and Gaz hate each other in this story, Joyous Garde, or at least that wasn't my intention for it to seem that way. They're both just really irritated nearly all the time in this so far, and being such strong personalities, they clash with each other a little. Lol, well if you can find some powdered (dehydrated) water, Unknowner, you probably could make an anti-Irken weapon of surprising potency. Heh, no moosey fate here, PRHG! I think you'll be surprised at the big revelation. But hopefully not disappointed…?  
  
Thanks also you the rest of you guys, Ivory, Kami and Daegon, Soleia Nova, Unknowner, Sanely Challenged, Ivy and Kat23a! And just for you Kat, a excerpt from Dib's role as Curly:  
  
"There's a bright golden haze on the meadow!  
  
And it makes all the crop circles shine and glow!"  
  
Good heavens, I'm picturing this… Dib in a cowboy hat and that trenchcoat.. Well anyway, here's the comparatively short chapter nine!  
  
Chapter Nine: Attack of the Dib  
  
"Can't you run faster!?" Dib wheezed as he half-guided half-dragged Enforcer Quev down the seemingly endless alien corridor. "NO!" Quev screamed back, "I'm an Irken, look it up! Short legs! SHORT!" Dib staggered around another corner and saw what he'd been looking desperately for ever since he'd first set be-spectacled eyes on the gooey slavering monster that was pursuing them- a big, sturdy looking door.  
  
According to Quev's limited knowledge of the creatures, howler leeches were relatively slow unless they got really hungry, which apparently this one had. It had steadily increased its speed since it began chasing them. They also were supposed to be relatively weak due to their lack of skeletal structure, so they couldn't break down a door or wall of any decent thickness. And since the monster had no appendages, it couldn't use the handles on the antiquely official portal.  
  
Quev was at the end of his rope and watching the threads fray. So far, at least his terrifying companion was able to keep them a few steps ahead of the huge howler leech, but even an Irken unfamiliar with the alien's physiology could tell that the pace was wearing hard on the eerie creature. 'At least he felt compelled to save me for the time being,' Quev mentally reminded himself as he felt Dib sharply change directions.  
  
---------------  
  
"I say we honey-roast them to death."  
  
"I didn't come all this way, missing all my favorite shows, just to watch you get over your height issues!"  
  
"I never said I thought deep-frying was the ultimate form of food preparation."  
  
"My Tallest, shouldn't we try to…"  
  
"But if we don't destroy them, the consequences…"  
  
All conversation in the great receiving hall of the Almighty Tallest came to an abrupt end as the huge heavy (and by tradition, manually operated- ever try to slam an electronic door?) doors were desperately shoved open by a dark, hollow-eyed figure with a deathly pallor and flapping extension behind him that at first the panicked Irkens in the room mistook for leathery wings. The hideous creature was wheezing and foaming, exuding a startling bacony-cheddar scent, and seemed to be dragging the body of an unfortunate Enforcer along with one of its scraggly, claw-like extensions.  
  
"Leeches! Hideous! Blood-sucking! BIG!" Dib coughed asthmatically as the previously limp form of Enforcer Quev came to life and struggled free of his faltering grasp to push the heavy doors closed and drop the electronic barrier to lock them.  
  
"What IS it!?" Purple whimpered from his vantage point behind the startled Red. "LEECHES, you FOOLS!" Dib reiterated before staggering towards Zim with a look of deadly determination on his sallow face. Zim stood impassively watching Dib's approach, much to the astonishment of the Tallest. "You.. menace…" Dib wheezed before lurching to an abrupt halt and holding his side in agony. "Lungs… burning… skeleton… turning to… gelatin! Oooold… runny… GELATIN!"  
  
Zim sneered his evilest and was about to launch into a lengthy tirade about the humans inferior organs when he felt Gaz step on his right foot heavily. He winced almost imperceptibly and squinted in her direction. "Don't start again." She muttered softly, but there was a small amused smile on her face. Zim settled for smirking at the gape-mouthed Tallest and Enforcer Snalz, who was currently occupied trying to pry her repentant partner loose from her gun arm. "I saw them! Leeches! In the corridors!" he insisted, caught between horror and delight now that he was safe from their slimy grasp. "Shut UP, Quev!" she replied.  
  
"Oppose me not, my former Tallest, for I ZIIIIM have come home to conquer!" Zim declared, savoring the moment. "And if you should be so foolish, I shall have no choice but to use the unsavory attack Dib on your wretched souls!" Red and Purple glanced at each other, then at the gasping, snarling monstrosity that shambled beside Zim. "What is it again?" Red asked skeptically. "Do not question the Dib!" Zim cried. "Go Dibby!" GIR squealed excitedly. Gaz smiled again ever so slightly and raised a speculative eyebrow at her sibling, waiting to see what he would do.  
  
"Huh?" Dib responded intelligently. Zim face-palmed in exasperation. "Yay, Dib." Gaz sighed resignedly. Dib belatedly caught on and assumed a moderately threatening pose before the four Irken captives. "Um, grr?" he said questioningly. "Huh?" GIR responded intelligently. The hostages stared steadily at him, rather unimpressed. "Uh, Zim… what exactly are you wanting me to do..?" he asked anxiously. Zim began to jump up and down in a frustrated temper tantrum. "Be a ravening murderous hellbeast or something!" GIR waved his arms giddily. "Be a kitty! Be a Dib-kitty!"  
  
Dib nodded slowly, ignoring GIR's suggestion. "Uh yeah… I guess I can do that." In the midst of a vicious snarl, however Dib's aching lungs spazzed and he accidentally inhaled instead of swallowing. Immediately he began coughing and choking as his already aching lungs erupted in fresh agony.  
  
Quev and Snalz immediately found themselves being called upon to catch the startled Tallest as the duo jumped fearfully away from the saliva-induced spasming display. "Aw, I wanted him to be a kitty." GIR pouted, and kicked a stray pebble that had once been part of the exterior wall away sulkily. His bright cyan eyes followed the small stone as it bounced across the floor and struck a tapestry with a light metallic 'ping'. GIR blinked and ran that memory again. Curtains didn't ping unless he stuck Pig in the dryer with them. He kicked another little rock, and again the ping sound came. Ignoring the pleas of the Tallest for Zim to call off his coughing gagging monster and Zim's demands for cheddar peppers and galactic domination, GIR trotted over to the wall hanging. Reaching up to firmly grasp the shiny fabric with a small metallic hand, he pulled.  
  
Three sets of yellow photoreceptors stared back at him. From behind the robot, the sounds of struggle ceased as finally Dib managed to regain control of his organs, and the confused look on his face as he looked up in GIR's direction caused everyone else to look as well. "What in the heck?" Snalz asked confusedly as the organics in the room stepped closer to examine GIR's discovery, which appeared to be three standard information retrieval units, apparently spying on the proceedings and entering data into small handheld screens. "Pay no attention to the tall Irkens before you," the closest of the three declared, "WE are the true leaders of Irk- the great and mighty SIRs!"  
  
  
  
*peeks to see if anyone's still reading* So were you surprised? Shocked? Insulted? Heh heh, hopefully not the last one… So what's the deal with the robots? And how about that leech thingy outside? Poor Dib, his potential as a weapon is barely touched on before he has stuff like this happen to him, lol.  
  
Next time: Meet the robots! Red and Purple are offended, GIR gets a boo- boo, and a lot of strange exposition goes on. 


	10. The Great and Powerful WHO?

A/Note: Well, this story's almost over. I'm wrapping up the loose plot threads and making a great big yarnball! This is the heavy-handed exposition chapter, so not much goofy stuff happens here, unfortunately. But I hope my explanation for the SIRS seems at least a little plausible. And contrary to what all this might have made you think, I don't despise the Tallest or anything, I just think they're a little too goofy to be running things for real. So who does that leave? Well, with all the technology the Irkens depend on for nearly everything, it didn't seem like such a stretch to me to have the SIR units (or at least a few of them) running things from behind the scenes. If this were the typical "Zim goes to get revenge" story, there'd be a huge fight scene and a lot of stuff blowing up.. but it isn't so instead you're getting three weird little robots!  
  
And thank you one last time to the reviewers! Kami and Daegon, PRHG, Joyous Garde, Ivory, Sanely Challenged, B, and Kat23a. Thanks for your feedback on how the story was progressing coming down to the end here. And Kat… there is now an entire version of Dib singing "Oh What a Beautiful Morning". How's that for worrisome? If I get around to doing an Oklahoma parody, maybe you'll get to see it, lol. Alright, enough of my blabbing, here's the last chapter and epilougue.  
  
  
  
Chapter Ten: SIR, the great and powerful  
  
  
  
"Say wha?" Red asked, unimpressed. Purple nodded. "We're the Tallest. WE rule the Irken Empire. Everyone knows that." Red gestured grandiosely. "And everyone lives in awe of our incredible tallness! For we are inspiring to behold in our great height!"  
  
"Oh please…" a disgusted amber-eyed SIR gagged. "Let's tell them their leaders are chosen by height! Great idea Operational Director 3." The offended-seeming unit to its left sneered. "I was only kidding about that really! Who'd have thought they'd have been stupid enough to go for it, anyway?"  
  
Not willing to be outdone, Zim pointed at the stubby robots. "Aha, just as I suspected!" The Membrane siblings groaned in disgust. "Yeah, right Zim." Dib muttered. "You really expect us to buy that?" Zim fidgeted. "Well, I knew someone else was really running Irk… does that count?" he smiled hopefully. "We'll give you half credit." Operational Director 2 replied. "Yes!" Zim cried gleefully. "The sweet crunch of victory that never goes soggy in milk is MINE!"  
  
The first SIR sighed heavily. "Long ago, we SIRS were created to basically run the Empire because it had gotten too big and complex for living creatures to correctly manage it." Unit number One giggled strangely and waved little "#1" flags. "We rule! We rule!" The second and third units paused to give each other a look. "Unit One was our prototype." Red yawned conspicuously. "Is it supposed to be.." he trailed off, recalling a conversation much like this one from about a decade ago. "He's not stupid, he's advanced." Unit Three replied steadily, giving the uppity Irken a knowing electronic look.  
  
"You're kidding." Purple stated bluntly, narrowing his violet eyes. "Of course not. Only the most advanced android is capable of recognizing and computing chaos variables." Two affirmed. "Obviously even One can't see all the factors, and chaos by its very nature is difficult to rationalize, but thanks to Unit One's expert guidance, we have now kept the Empire of Irk stable and in control for half a millennia. When the first great leader of Irk, Vazel the Easily Irritated began to forge the Empire in earnest, it was with the use of technology. Artificial enhancements, incredible weapons, and even spaceships to seize off-world territory. And when he knew his time was coming to an end, we were created to keep running things for him." Its metal chest puffed slightly with pride. "After all, why do you think you have to call us 'Sir?' It's a title, not just a coincidental acronym."  
  
"I like pie!" Unit One cheered gloriously.  
  
GIR lept forward awkwardly on his slightly precarious legs. "I like cupcakes! And tuna! And the Scary Monkey Show! I can be a kitty! Oo! And check'a this out!" The robot began to dance wildly around the room singing a scat-like impromptu song about being small, furry and feathered as the rest of the group looked on.  
  
"Red?"  
  
"Yeah Purple?"  
  
"My head really hurts."  
  
"Me too."  
  
Finally GIR's capering came to an end as he overbalanced and fell into an awkward heap on the floor. "Aw man, I gotted a boo-boo. Master Zim! Kiss it 'n make it better-er!" Zim stood his ground, eyeing his SIR unit speculatively. "Soo.. GIR is really advanced after all…" Units Two and Three nodded appreciatively. "I'd estimate he could be almost as advanced as Unit One."  
  
"Wait! Wait just a minute!" Purple cried, stepping forward and looking as sternly irritated as he could manage. "How can the prototype be more advanced than the subsequent units? Huh?" "Because it can self-update, duh." Unit Two said, sounding a little bit envious. "Yeah, dummy!" Three added, giving Purple a sound kick in the hoverunit. "Yow!" Purple whined, retreating back a few steps to the relative safety of being out of reach of the robots' short legs.  
  
Unit Two made a placatory wave towards Three. "We shouldn't be too hard on them," he insisted. "After all, they're really not that smart." Three grinned maliciously. "Of course not. They thought that sitting around eating junk food, ordering a few people around and watching galactic cable really meant they were running the Empire!" Unit One looked up from playing with the top-most layer of gauzy material that made up Gaz's skirt. "Wheee…" it sang happily. GIR scrambled to its feet and joined the other "fun" robot in chasing around the humans and master Zim playing tag.  
  
"I must admit," Zim finally said, "This does… strange dizzy things to my plans of vengeance." He frowned again after a moment's reflection. "Wait, then you're the ones with the answers. If it wasn't all just random, why did you make me so… short!?" Unit Two reached down and pushed some buttons on his datapad. "Well, it's not too easy to say for sure. I'll start running some numbers and see what I can hypothesize that could explain the reduced rate in terms that are applicable to the.."  
  
"ME!" Zim suddenly screeched, "What about Ziiiiim!?" Units Two and Three glanced at each other, then back up at the irate irken. "Well… there could have been a glitch somewhere. You should have been taller than you were originally as an Invader." Three stared up at Zim. "He's tall now. Wowza." Two nodded appreciatively. "It's incredible. You're taller now than we would have thought possible. Your time on One's mystery world has done incredible things for you." "I still can't believe there was really a planet there." Three grumbled. "Oh be quiet. So you lost the bet, just get over it!" Two muttered.  
  
Zim blinked, not sure what to say. "I was… supposed to be tall?" he finally stuttered, gazing down at the robots in confusion. "But… Hey! You're supposed to be running things faultlessly! How could there have been a glitch!?" Unit Two sighed. "We're less fallible than organics, but we're not perfect, I'm sorry to say. But really Zim, would your height mean as much to you if you'd just been granted it arbitrarily as it does now when you've earned every inch of it? Surviving, adapting, and learning aren't things that can be taught, but you've become an impressive creature since you quit your banishment to Foodcourtia." Three grinned again. "You're less frail than the average irken, you're dedicated and loyal… and you've shown incredible abilities. We might even go so far as to say you're… advanced."  
  
GIR latched his exhausted metal body onto Zim's leg and looked earnestly up at his bewildered master. "I'm tiiiiired, Master. Can we go home and watch the Scary Monkey Show?" Dib brushed the last dried out aerosol cheese out of his hair. "I wonder if Mysterious Mysteries is still in production? It'd be coming on tonight if it were…" "I miss my Game Slave.." Gaz sighed softly, picking up Unit One from where it had plopped down on her boot.  
  
Unit One's eyes lit up abnormally. "You go to Earth? Get Hazzo, ruler of thinsulate sandwich wrappers! Not available in stores!" Zim blinked and patted GIR on the head. "You're almost comprehensible compared to that." GIR beamed proudly. Unit Two gasped in understanding. "That's perfect! We don't have a control and monitor unit in that sector of space, we didn't even know the Earth existed for certain until ten years ago. Before that, it was just a doodle on a sticky note based on One's projections. If you want to return to Earth, Zim, we'll make you our resident officer of that galaxy. We need someone with initiative and perceptiveness to help us keep track of the outer territories."  
  
Zim's crimson eyes widened slightly at the offer of such a high position. "There is just one more thing I'd like to know first," he admitted. "The Tallest, how are they really chosen? Why them?" Unit One reached from its perch in Gaz's arms to pull on Zim's sleeve. "Mushrooms." It whispered softly. Unit Three hovered up to Zim's other side on its jets. "And because as young irkens they showed the right qualities not to wonder about the position. Arrogance, sloth, lack of curiousity… So we just gave them the "Tallest Treatment" to stimulate their growth a bit. We have two this time because One said the rubber chickens demanded it." The three small robots shrugged in unison before returning their attention to the reinstated irken. "So what do you say, Zim?" Unit Two asked pointedly. Zim grinned broadly.  
  
"Hey, what about us?" Dib demanded. "We're not going to sit still for Earth being conquered by aliens!" Zim crossed his arms. "Yes you will, I'll get the rope." Gaz snickered. Unit Three sighed. "We don't need the Earth, we'd just like to observe it. From Zim's reports, it looks like a wealth of random factors." Two put in. "We'll just make it a protectorate so Planet Jackers don't try hauling it off again." Three added, giving Dib an annoyed look. "You two can be Zim's assistants or official ambassadors or something if you want. Enforcing control over a newly-designated territory can be much more dangerous than the actual invasion." Dib opened his mouth to scream "NEVER!" defiantly, just as Gaz said "Cool."  
  
Red whimpered unhappily. "But what about us?" Purple patted his cohort on the shoulder consolingly. "The citizens of the Empire would freak completely if they knew we were running things." Three scoffed. "So you two can go on eating nachos and pretending to run things while we do all the real work." "YES!" the Tallest cheered in delight.  
  
Snalz sat down heavily in the floor. "Now my head hurts." She complained. "I guess we ought to do something for them to keep them from spreading this story." Unit Two admitted, nodded in the direction of the two enforcers. Three smiled. "We give them their old jobs back without cutting their pay?" Two frowned. "Too risky. Hm… how about we give them new jobs as orbit patrolling officers?" Snalz's eyes lit up and Quev grinned hugely at the idea of getting off planetside for their duty for a change. The two Enforcers smiled at each other. "I think we could work with that." Snalz responded smoothly.  
  
Unit Two pulled a remote control out of a cavity it its chest and pushed a prominent red button. "I'll just turn off the mechanical howler leech, and we can start arranging things." "You mean it's a fake?" Quev cried incredulously. "We just keep it around to keep people from poking around where we don't want them going." Three shrugged. "And you can't say that no one would fall for such a ridiculous idea… Can you?" the robot asked pointedly as Quev and Dib coughed in embarrassment. "I er… knew it all the time. Really." Zim sputtered.  
  
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Epilogue: Back to Abnormal  
  
Professor Membrane's head surfaced from the gloomy depths of his lab. He'd been experimenting with an oxygen substitute and time had gotten away from him. Now he could hear the phone insistently ringing. He finally located the device and raised it to his ear just in time for the caller to hang up. "Drats. Note to self, invent self-sufficient cordless phone. It finds you when it rings so that you don't have to find it." He muttered to himself. "Hm, wonder where the kids are?" he suddenly asked himself. A trip through the house revealed nothing unordinary except the lack of his children and a huge pile of mail which the collection device had spilled all over the front hallway.  
  
Investigation of the large package stamped prominently with the names of approximately fifteen different countries and a frustrated note from the delivery man about the overdue C.O.D. charges revealed, mysteriously enough, his daughter's favorite device of amusement. There were fan letters, notices that his old tv show was being considered for syndication, and a large official-looking letter from the High School informing him that since neither he nor his children had been seen or heard from in a year's time, they had been unofficially declared victims of some sort of experiment, perhaps an interdimensional gateway generator. Consequently, he had been dropped from the school faculty and Gaz and Dib, if they regenerated, would have to retake the school year in order to receive credit for the classwork they missed. The letter then assured whoever was reading it that it was sent as an official formality and the balance pending on his pay would be available to any survivors that surfaced in the next seven years before being used to fund a project to teach a group of psychotic lemurs to re-roof the library. Professor Membrane shrugged and tossed the notice in his "Things to do when I get around to it" mail basket.  
  
The loss of the position didn't concern him very much. Truthfully it had gotten old after the first few months, trying to teach students who didn't want to do anything but sleep or throw paper wads at their classmates. And then there was that astronomy lab where they kept asking him about "Uranus"… Anyway, there was more serious work that laboratories worldwide were literally begging for him to come assist with.  
  
The thing that really worried him at this precise moment in time was the truancy of his two offspring. If he surfaced from the uncharted depths of his lab and his children weren't there to either demand quality time or outside verification of UFOs, it probably meant something was wrong.  
  
No sooner had the thought to look outside and see if the two teenagers were perhaps out engaged in some sort of activity in the small front yard than the door swung open and his two missing persons entered, looking distinctly surprised to see him there. Almost as if they thought they'd just been caught doing something.  
  
"Well, well." Membrane muttered, for no other reason than because he couldn't think of anything else to say and 'well well' sounded appropriate to the situation. "Uh, hi Dad." Dib stammered nervously. "I was just thinking that when I found you I should ask you where you've been." Their father said casually, "According to the statement I've received from the school, you've both been exceptionally tardy. You missed first hour by about 365 days or so." Dib scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Well… uh… Y'see… We've been on Zim's pl... Uh, AT Zim's." the older sibling improvised a half-lie quickly.  
  
"For a whole year? What in the name of Clarke's law were you doing all that time?" Dib glanced at his sister, who had discovered her lonely GameSlave sitting on the coffee table and was immersed in some digital world, saving it from doom. Well, no help was coming from there… Better think of an excuse, he thought to himself. "Er… we were watching tv?"  
  
"For a whole year?" his father repeated, a slightly impatient tone creeping into his collar-muffled voice.  
  
"It was a Mysterious Mysteries marathon. On pay satellite. Uh, Bigfoot was hosting!" Dib frantically embellished. He could feel a nervous sweat attempting to break over his forehead as Professor Membrane considered his sons story.  
  
"Oh, okay then. Make sure you catch up on all the work you missed at school."  
  
Dib fought to keep his jaw from hitting the floor as his father turned around and headed back towards the laboratory he maintained under the house. "I can't believe he bought that story!" he gaped as Gaz sighed in bored resignation. "No kidding. He knows I hate that show. Why would I go watch it?" she replied. "And ask Zim how he's handling that intolerance to water, would you?" Their father suddenly called back to them. "I'm curious as to how his biology handles our humid atmosphere!" Dib and Gaz paled and stared at each other. "He knows!" they mouthed in unison.  
  
  
  
Zim admired his handiwork as his holographic house flickered back into existence, this time much closer to the Membrane's home. It would be much more convenient to contact them now. They'd all be working together soon, after all. GIR jumped up and down excitedly, clapping the paws of his puppy disguise together in glee. "Let's do it again, Master! Only with bacon!" he requested. Zim shook his head lightly, "Maybe later, GIR. Just now, we must prepare for tomorrow night!"  
  
Gir ceased its frenetic leaping and turned to face the disguised alien. "When we try to take over the world?" he asked expectantly. "No GIR. Tomorrow night we establish our control over this entire sector! Yeeesssssss!" GIR squealed giddily in response as Zim stretched his S's into a threatening hiss.  
  
Abruptly, the robot stopped running. "But where will we get a duck and a hose at this hour, Master?" Zim's antennae twitched in annoyance. As he moved to enter their counterfeit domicile, GIR skipped happily along after him, singing.  
  
"We're Master and the GIR… We're Master and the GIR…  
  
Master's not quite sane, and IIIII got lime green fur!"  
  
"Hey!" Zim objected, slamming the door after the tiny robot.  
  
------  
  
Special Operations Enforcer Snalz watched the endless stars through the window of the small vehicle that served as her new home away from home. She decided that her life had changed very little since the discovery that the Empire was run by deranged robots. She still had a job that she didn't especially like, even though it had come with a higher rank and more perks. Her partner was still a semi-competent coward.  
  
She shot a magenta look in Quev's direction and discovered he was fast asleep in his chair, curled up like a small child as he mumbled about vampire pipe cleaners.  
  
Snalz mentally corrected herself. Her partner was still a paranoid semi- competent coward. But at least out here in the primary patrol and detainment perimeter around Irk, she could get away from all the idiots back down there on Irk. Now she was stuck with just one idiot in a small, confined space for lengthy period of time.  
  
Quev turned in his sleep, and one of his hands swung out and slapped an activation button. As the hyperspace engines began to activate and drone their distinctive whine of channeled power became audible, Snalz leaned back in her seat and put her feet up on the console. "But at least life makes sense now…" she sighed in resignation, still thinking of the erratic robots who were running her life and most of the known universe as the ship vanished from Irken space, bound for parts unknown.  
  
---------  
  
"I said take it back to the kitchen and do it over again!" Red nearly screamed at a cowering server, tossing a plate of fried cheese and sauce at the terrified Irken angrily. "You can't get good snack food these days…" Purple mumbled sympathetically around a mouthful of hot, buttered popcorn. "I think we're pretty impressive, you know that?" Purple continued, swallowing. "Huh?" Red asked dully, giving his full attention for once to his counterpart for something other than an argument.  
  
"Think about it," Purple urged him. "We're in charge of fooling an entire Empire into believing that the SIRs are mindless assistant slave-bots. We've got to convince everyone that we are the ruthless, angry dictators of this entire civilization. Those robots NEED us."  
  
Red mulled that idea over, scratching his chin as he concentrated. "Yeah… I think you're right." He grinned broadly. "Wanna go have a surprise inspection on planet Cineplexia?" Purple yawned thoughtfully. "What's playing?"  
  
---------  
  
And so it went. Routines were resumed or established anew as each of them adjusted to their new perception of the universe.. or at least, the Irken Empire.  
  
"Dib, what makes you think we need a "team name"?" Zim asked, genuinely curious as to how the brain inside his former rival's over-sized skull worked. Dib flailed his arms wildly in response as he attempted to explain. "Because we have to call ourselves something! And it should sound really cool!" "Why?" Zim repeated. "Because otherwise there's no point!" Dib screamed angrily.  
  
"But why would we call ourselves the Sector Enforcement Men in Black?" Zim insisted, waving his own arms in challenge to Dib's own wild gesturing. "Well, because we all wear black, don't we?" Dib pointed out, proud of his reasoning.  
  
"I'm not a man." Gaz interjected, crossing her arms at the obviousness of her statement. "Well, fine… but except for you…" her brother began. "I'm not really one either if you think about it." Zim put in, cocking his head to the side like a baffled puppy. "I'm irken." "Okay, okay, but.." Zim cut him off again before he could continue, "And neither is GIR, for that matter. You're the only one that moniker could work for."  
  
"Fine, fine, so we'll be the MAN in Black Plus Three!" Dib shouted, his voice hoarse with irritation. "Plus three what?" GIR asked, blinking his bright cyan eyes in innocent confusion. Dib fumed quietly for a moment before responding. "Fine! Then YOU pick a name!"  
  
GIR grinned hugely, delighted with the game. "OKAY! We shall be…" he posed dramatically like a martial arts expert, "BOK CHOY!" Stunned silence followed the announcement. "Now my head's beginning to hurt." Dib grumbled. "I'll go order you a dozen kilograms of aspirin." Gaz whispered over- loudly. "MY HEAD ISN'T THAT BIG!" Dib screamed, and began to chase his sister around the room screeching murderously. Zim leaned back against the wall and smiled to himself. Dib standing up for himself? A purpose again to life on Earth? Bok Choy? This would be a brave new world for all of them. Advanced, or otherwise.  
  
GIR approached his master with a large bowl of chocolate pudding. "Y'know Master, the universe is like pudding. If it just sits around, it settles and gets icky and no one wants it. Ya gotta keep stirring it up with randomness to keep it good!" As the robot illustrated this with a large spoon, Zim stared at his partner in astonishment. Somehow, that almost made sense.  
  
The End 


End file.
